


Good Thing

by Raine_Wynd



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Assumptions, Chuck Lives, Disabled Character, Father-Son Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Movie(s), Raleigh and Chuck are flirting, Romance, the things Chuck does for his dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:23:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc falls in love, Chuck's none too amused, and Raleigh and Mako are manning the popcorn concession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This plotbunny ate my brain. I tried to find a beta for this thing, but no one had time, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know and I'll fix them (sorry.)

_Late July 2026_

Relocating what was left of the PPDC to Sydney had not just been nostalgia on Herc’s part; the Australian government had recognized the leverage it had and offered them a home. Cynically, Herc knew that the negotiations to sell the Sydney Shatterdome had collapsed, leaving the government with a useless property no one else would be willing to take. The Hong Kong Shatterdome had become a museum and a memorial; the UN was willing to fund efforts to use K-science and jaeger tech for reconstruction and rebuilding, with some monitoring of the Breach just to be on the safe side. There’d also been some hasty paperwork shuffling to cover the actions the PPDC had taken to close the Breach so that no one was individually liable for damages.

For the past eighteen months, Herc had been busy following Stacker’s plans, grateful that they’d discussed the fallout of winning. Without those plans, Herc wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to get through the insanity, the backpedaling, the politicking, and the sheer pressure of being the man in charge when the apocalypse was averted. He was equally grateful that they’d been able to retain key administrative staff throughout the closure of the jaeger program and into this new phase of the PPDC; having them had allowed him some breathing room so it wasn’t all on Tendo, Raleigh, Chuck, and Mako to help him get through it all.

Today, however, the details of being Marshal of the PPDC and the world’s oldest surviving jaeger pilot were the last thing on his mind. Today, he was just a father out with his son – a rare thing in his life; most of the time he’d had to drag Chuck away from the Shatterdome for some R&R or Chuck had considered the effort a waste of time if it involved Herc. Chuck had been the one to suggest making the three-hour drive to Cowra, claiming he wanted a change of scenery from Sydney. Herc knew it was just an excuse; a major carmaker had given Chuck a fully loaded truck that was customized for someone who needed hand controls and space for a dog that stood 40 inches tall. Some further tweaking by the Striker Eureka techs had replaced the hand levers with an electronic control pad, since Chuck couldn’t flex his right foot, as it had been fused at the ankle.

Chuck was as recovered as he was going to get from his injuries; he had overcome the dire predictions of never being able to walk again, let alone talk or remember events, but he would always limp and have issues with balance. The truck was big enough that Chuck’s mixed-breed service dog, Ian – the tallest dog either of them had ever seen – fit easily in the back seat in a specially designed dog harness. Max was along for the ride, too. Though it was still winter in Australia, the day had turned out to be pleasant, dry, and sunny. Chuck and Herc had spent the day playing tourist, getting recognized (something they’d expected), and then trying to avoid the inevitable paparazzi that had shown up as soon as someone posted pictures online. Despite this, Herc knew it had been a good trip for both of them. Chuck had been doing some low-level flying and there’d been some good-natured arguing over whose music was played in the truck’s stereo.

Herc had been certain that his son was dead when Chuck and Stacker had detonated the bomb, but, once again, Stacker had done the impossible. Given what he knew about his old friend, Herc reflected that he shouldn’t have been surprised that Stacker would give his son back to him. What Herc hadn’t expected was how much that one decision had changed his relationship with Chuck. They still had their moments, but they were fewer. Being inside someone else’s head, seeing the sacrifices Stacker had made for Mako, had given Chuck a completely new respect for Herc. 

Halfway back to Sydney, the battered old sedan in front of them abruptly swerved to the left as something dropped out of the car, then came to a sudden stop on the side of the road. Chuck swerved to avoid the debris before pulling over just behind the sedan. Herc bailed out of the truck, hoping that his son would stay put. Though Chuck loathed to admit it, Herc could tell the effort of controlling the truck after walking around most of the day was straining Chuck’s physical capacity. He was relieved when he didn’t hear Chuck get out. Herc jogged the short distance to where the sedan had come to a stop. 

Herc saw that the sedan was being driven by a black haired, pale-skinned man wearing a fleece-lined denim coat, halfway unzipped. The stranger had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and he had a shocked look on his angular face. Herc rapped on the driver’s side window. With a start, the stranger rolled it down. 

“You all right?” Herc asked. 

“I…think so,” the stranger said shakily, turning his head to face Herc. Deep-set green eyes met Herc’s gaze. Despite the late afternoon, he was clean-shaven, as if he’d shaved before setting off on his trip. Desire slammed into Herc; he had a weakness for men who looked like this stranger. It took him a moment to focus on what the man was saying. “My car isn’t. I think I lost my transmission. Again. Damn it. Last thing I needed. We were moving to Sydney.” 

“Take a deep breath. We’ll call the police for you; get someone here to tow you. What’s your name?” 

“Jamie.” 

“All right, Jamie, I’m Herc. Just stay put, mate, and we’ll get you fixed up.” 

“Thanks. I have a phone…somewhere in this mess.” He gestured to the interior of the car, which looked packed to the gills, as if he’d been in the midst of moving himself. 

Herc smiled. “Be right back.” 

Chuck rolled down the window of the truck as Herc drew near. “Called the police; they said they’d send someone out and a tow truck. Other guy okay?” 

“Yeah, he thinks he lost his transmission. You okay if we hang around to make sure he’s taken care of?” 

Chuck looked insulted, and Herc chuckled ruefully. “If you need to get out and stretch –” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Chuck cut him off. His gaze turned to the sedan ahead of them. The driver had gotten out and was rooting in the backseat for something before emerging with a small bundle. 

From the way Jamie was juggling the bundle, Herc recognized the motion as a father trying to soothe a crying baby. Impossibly, that only made Herc’s attraction ratchet higher. Jamie had a slender build, with most of his height in his legs. The way his faded jeans hugged his ass made Herc sharply aware of just how long it had been since he’d been with a man. Too busy fighting kaiju and his son, Herc thought, but damn, that man looked _fine_. 

“Dad?!” Chuck said incredulously, catching the direction of his father’s stare and the bleeding edge of Herc’s emotions. The intensity of their Drift meant they’d always know when the other was feeling strong emotions, even if they never drifted again. 

Herc glared at his son. “Like you didn’t fall in lust with someone when we were stuck in traffic.” Aware that Chuck could drag on the argument, Herc stepped away from the truck and went to talk to Jamie. 

“My son called the police,” Herc told Jamie, who looked even more frazzled. The baby wasn’t settling, making whimpering sounds. 

“Thanks. Oh, come on, Rachel, please be good, you were doing so good in the car. I swear I’ll get you something to eat when we’re done.” 

“Has it been a while since she’d been fed?” Herc asked. 

“Yeah. I was hoping to get to Sydney before I gave her anything. I swear she’s going to be the death of me.” 

“Kids will do that to you,” Herc said with a laugh. “How old is she?” 

“Five months,” Jamie said, looking down at his daughter with fatherly pride. 

“Do you have a bottle, pacifier, anything like that in your car? She’s going to scream her head off when the police pull up.” 

“No, it’s all packed. My neighbor helped me pack the car and he wedged the bag where I can’t get it. I’m not gonna win the father of the year award at this rate.” 

“Making mistakes is part of raising a kid,” Herc said as they both heard a police siren come closer. “God knows I’ve made a few.” 

Jamie looked up at that. Recognition flared across his face. “You’re Herc Hansen,” he said stupidly. 

“Right now, I’m just a guy trying to help a fellow out,” Herc said gently. “The police are getting closer; brace yourself.” 

As expected, Jamie’s daughter loudly protested the siren and forced Jamie to pace again. The squad car pulled up, a tow truck on its heels. It didn’t take long for the sedan to be hooked up to the tow truck. 

“You gonna be okay?” Herc asked Jamie as they transferred the car seat to the tow truck. 

“Yeah,” Jamie nodded. “Probably cost too damn much, but hey, it’s only money, right?” He shot Herc a sheepish grin, and Herc fought the urge to offer to take care of the problem. He didn’t think anyone would deliberately sabotage their car just to meet him, but it had happened to one of the jaeger teams, back in the day. “Listen, thanks for stopping. I probably would’ve been out here for hours, digging through the car just to find my phone.” 

Herc smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then Jamie’s attention was caught by his daughter’s crying, and he quickly climbed into the tow truck before Herc could say anything more. 

Assured that Jamie and his daughter were being taken care of, Herc climbed into Chuck’s truck. 

“Please tell me you don’t have his number,” Chuck muttered as he pulled back onto the highway. 

“And if I did?” Herc shot back, wishing he’d taken the time to get it. “You got a problem with me finding someone? It's not the first time.” 

“Way you were looking at him?” Chuck took his eyes off the road to shoot his father an unreadable look. “I don’t know.” 

Herc sighed. As far as Chuck was concerned, no one was good enough to replace his mother, and the few men he’d seen Herc with had usually turned out to be idiots of one form or another. The last one had even had the audacity to proposition Chuck, thinking that Herc wouldn’t notice or care. It had made Chuck aggressively protective of his father. “Let’s just get home,” Herc told his son. “We did our good deed for the day.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You're hopeless.” 

Kneeling on the floor of his living room, Jamie rolled his eyes as he put a fresh diaper on his wriggling daughter. “Just because I met Herc Hansen last week and the tow truck driver wanted to make a quick buck by snapping a photo of Herc by my poor car does not mean I should immediately stalk him, Peter. Even if he is more handsome and gracious in person. Rachel, you are a squirmy girl today, yes you are.”

“You should’ve at least gotten his phone number. Bet you anything if you drove over to the Shatterdome, they’d let you in.” The sharply dressed Thai man nodded to himself.

Jamie finally managed to get a diaper on his daughter and shot Peter a disbelieving look. “You’re just mad that you missed out on your hero and you’re still pouting that the PPDC hasn’t hired you to represent them. Like I told you years ago, they’re not going to hire just anyone.” Lifting Rachel into his arms, he shifted her to his hip as he handed her a stuffed toy.

Peter sighed. “Anyone else would be telling everyone who you met. You make me find out from _Inside Edition_ , and your reaction is ‘oh, yeah, that happened.’ Today I come by to tell you you’re nominated for an Icon Award – they only give that to the most influential singers and songwriters. Your reaction is an underwhelmed ‘yay.’ Why, I ask? Because you, you’re just happy to wipe the ass of a half-naked child.”

“That half-naked child is my daughter, so yes. Peter, you’re my agent and a good friend, but you know I’m not into the cult of celebrity the way you are.”

“Cult of celebrity, he says. You’re a damn recluse is what you are, Jamie Maloney. Looking at you now, nobody would know you’re a star.”

“Like I said before, I’m a simple man who writes country songs. Am I happy to get recognized for my talent? Sure. You seem to think I should get all flipped out or something.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You are the lowest maintenance artist I have, I swear. You’re living like a college student and your bed barely fits into the master. I’m half-shocked you bought a crib for Rachel. You can afford better housing, Jamie – hell, you could afford a gated community, away from this riffraff.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow. “This riffraff buys my music. Come on, Peter, you know I’ve never felt comfortable in the lap of luxury. I grew up on a ketch, remember?”

Peter waved it off. “As if you’d let me forget.”

For a moment, both men remembered. Jamie had been sixteen when he submitted a video to a popular talent show. Upon finding out he’d grown up on a sailboat, one of the judges had called him a country-singing pirate. The moniker had stuck, though his only concession to it had been a costumed photoshoot when he was seventeen. He’d won the show’s grand prize: a recording contract. A hastily rushed single followed, which – to no one’s real surprise at that point – had gone on to top the charts for sixteen weeks. More hits and tours had followed, until Jamie had been a household name. For fifteen years, he’d been one of the top artists in Australia, seemingly unable to release a song that didn’t chart in the top ten. He’d even won an award for the song he’d written to commemorate the jaeger pilots, “Fighting Machine.” 

Then Jamie had been injured in a stage accident. An overzealous fan had managed to rush the stage, tackling Jamie and breaking his arm. Jamie couldn’t go on a stage to perform without experiencing stage fright; he couldn’t sing. He couldn’t write. It would be nearly three years before he wrote again. For the last ten years, Jamie had been writing hit songs for other people. He couldn’t imagine going on stage ever again. Even award shows where he was expected to accept an award made him nervous, though he’d been steadily working through his panic with the help of therapy.

Peter sighed. “At least take this,” he said as he handed Jamie an envelope. “You need to get back out there again; people are starting to think you’re dead.”

Shifting Rachel to his hip, Jamie took the envelope and opened it. “Invitation to the Sydney Mid-Winter Charity Ball? You know I don’t go to these things.”

“You do now. They’re supporting the Sydney Helps fund. The Heroes of the Breach are guests of honor.”

Jamie looked at the date and swore. “You’d better have a babysitter lined up, Peter.”

“The nanny service you contracted with to help watch Rachel during the day said they will have someone here Friday night. Do make sure you’ve dusted off your Stetson, Jamie. The hosts are expecting Jamie the country singer and songwriter, not Jamie the dad.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, but he knew he’d go. He’d always supported local charities, and the Sydney Helps organization targeted those most affected by the Kaiju War – civilians whose homes and livelihoods had been destroyed and who did not qualify for government assistance. It would be good, he thought, to see if Herc remembered him or treated him like just another face in the crowd. If nothing else, it was practice for the awards show, something to get him used to be in public again.

If Jamie felt a little thrill at knowing he’d see Herc again, well, that was his secret to keep, and none of Peter’s business.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All charitable organizations referred to here are completely products of my brain.

“Welcome to the Mid-Winter Ball, Marshal Hansen, Ranger Hansen,” the heavy-set brown-haired woman in a striking red gown said as they stepped into the main room of the private club. She saw Ian, who wore the ‘PPDC Service Dog’ vest one of the engineering techs had sewn for him, and her eyes widened. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but he’s the tallest dog I’ve seen.”

“We get that a lot,” Chuck said dryly. 

The woman smiled ruefully and briskly moved on to what she felt they needed to know. “There is an exit to the garden through the hallway directly behind me if you need to take your dog out,” she said. “I hope that Miss Mori and Mr. Becket recover from their illnesses quickly. If you need anything else, please let me know. There is a silent auction in the room to your left, and you are at the head table in the room to your right. Enjoy the evening.” She smiled at them, clearly a practiced event professional, and they stepped past her.

Both Herc and Chuck hated these events, but they needed the publicity. It was one thing to save the world; another thing to be seen as continuing to help the public afterwards and, equally important, connect to the rich and powerful in a social setting. As the highest-ranking officer in the PPDC, Herc knew he couldn’t afford to ignore every social invitation that came his way. He just wished they had Raleigh and Mako along to help them buffer the attention, but Raleigh had been sick all week, and Mako had caught the bug as well, as she’d tried to take care of him. On the ride over, Herc and Chuck had agreed they’d stay the minimum amount of time necessary, and leave.

The dining area was already half-full. It didn’t take long to fill up, and the table they’d been seated at quickly filled with people who’d paid premium prices to say that they ate dinner with the Hansens. Herc made small talk and tried to eat while Chuck largely ignored his plate in favor of a heated discussion about – of all things – a movie Herc was certain his son would’ve never watched if he hadn’t been stuck in a hospital room with Raleigh as company.

After dessert, the guests were encouraged to mingle. Chuck drifted off first, his attention snared by the event organizers who wanted him to meet certain people. Herc was soon trapped in a corner by a pair of society matrons who clearly thought he was eligible bachelor material.

Rescue appeared in the form of a tall man in a black Stetson. “Surely, ladies, you’d allow someone else a moment of the marshal’s time?” he drawled.

Seeing him, one of them actually simpered. “Oh, of course. Come on, Marsha, I think your husband is waving you down.”

Herc’s eyes widened as he recognized the man in the hat. “Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie grinned. He looked good, Herc thought, dressed in a black Stetson and a black tuxedo with a gray waistcoat, and made Herc abruptly grateful that he’d worn his Class A dress uniform. “Doing my part for a good cause and hoping to run into you. I never really got a chance to thank you for helping me.”

“Actually, Chuck’s the one who made the call. I just stood around,” Herc said. “So how’s your car?”

“Toast. I bought a new one, well, new to me anyway.” He tipped his hat. “And yes, I know a few people here and there.”

Herc raised an eyebrow. The society event drew the city’s elite; for Jamie to have even gotten an invitation, he had to be _somebody_. “A few?”

“I write songs,” Jamie said easily. “Ever heard of ‘A Boat Named Desire’ or ‘Last July’?”

Herc shook his head. “Sorry, mate, no.”

“How about ‘Fighting Machine’?” 

Herc stared, recognition settling in. Every ranger knew that one – it had become an anthem in the wake of the first wave of kaiju attacks, back when everyone thought it was just a temporary thing, easily conquered. “You’re Jamie Maloney.” Jamie nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I remember watching you sing that live,” Herc said. “Gave me goosebumps.” He studied the other man, who was a few inches shorter than his own 6'1", abruptly wondering what Jamie’s game was. “So how does a man who wrote a song like that wind up driving a beater car?”

Jamie shrugged. “I grew up on a boat. Car’s just transportation, far as I’m concerned.”

Intrigued, Herc asked, “Not a car enthusiast?”

“Give me a back road out in the country, no speed limits, and a motorcycle – I love driving then. Cars, eh. They’re better at hauling stuff, especially when you have a baby. If I knew how to rig a motorcycle to carry Rachel safely, I probably would. And yes, I’ve considered a side car, but I have no clue how to operate one.” He shrugged again. “At this point, I think I’ll wait until she’s a bit older so I don’t have to worry so much.”

“What do you ride?”

“Just sold my motorcycle, actually, but I had a ten-year-old Suzuki V-twin,” Jamie said with an apologetic smile. “Didn’t see the point in keeping it if I wasn’t going to be able to ride it anymore. You?”

Herc smiled. “It’s a Triumph Rocket III I bought right before the first kaiju attack. My wife didn’t like it, thought it was too much bike.” He shrugged. “I started taking Chuck out with me on it when he was eight years old; trying to make up for the days I couldn’t take him with me to work. He swears that’s when he decided he wanted to be a jaeger pilot.”

Jamie smiled. “I saw him a few minutes ago. From the way the news reported it, it sounded like they didn’t think he’d be up and around like he is now.”

Herc chuckled. “He’s a stubborn one; takes after his old man. People have been telling him no for over a decade and he’s been dead set on proving them wrong. How’s your daughter?

“I swear I wake up and she’s figured out a new trick. She keeps me on my toes. It’s just the two of us, so I’m doing the best I can. Right now I’m trying not to obsessively check my phone.”

Herc smiled. “I had to teach myself that trick, too. So if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your daughter’s mother?”

“Long story,” Jamie said. “And looks like you’ve people who want to talk to you. It was good seeing you again, Herc.” He vanished back into the crowd.

By the time Herc was free to look for him again, Jamie had apparently left the event.

He tried to shake the odd meeting off, but the more he thought about it, the more he was intrigued. Jamie hadn’t taken advantage of the moment to ask for more than a few minutes of conversation, completely appropriate given their first meeting. Herc tried to think of the last time someone had sought him out and then didn’t ask for his number and came up empty.

A quick internet search revealed that Jamie was exactly who he claimed to be, unless he had a doppelganger, but Herc instinctively doubted that was the case. The official Jamie Maloney website proclaimed ‘Icon Award to be presented to Jamie Maloney at the Australian Music Awards – see it in October, live on Channel Nine!’ The bio went on to say:

“After a life spent growing up on a classic 45' ketch and sailing the world, Jamie rose to fame on TV’s ‘Australia’s Next Star’. Only sixteen years old at the time, he went on to win the grand prize and took Australia by storm with his first single, ‘A Boat Named Desire,’ which he wrote. He’s been living the dream ever since, and has won numerous awards. Jamie has had ten number one country hits, including ‘A Boat Named Desire,’ ‘Tequila Honey’, ‘No Dogs Allowed (I Need a Real Man)’, ‘Last July’, ‘Sailing Away’, ‘Faith in You,’ ‘I Stand Accused,’ ‘Stuck in Memoryville,’ and the crossover hits ‘Knight of the Sea,’ and the jaeger pilot anthem ‘Fighting Machine.’ Jamie has written several other hit songs for such artists as Taniya Roberts, Colt Morrisey, and Delta Goodrem, including ‘Lightning,’ ‘Love Me, I’m Leaving,’ and ‘Sunday Dreaming.’ He is an avid motorcyclist and supporter of several charitable causes, including the Rainbow Alliance and the Sydney Helps Fund.” 

There was a small note in the ‘contact’ section of the site, indicating that Jamie was not on social media and would be making limited public appearances, but could be reached via his agent.

Still, Herc was intrigued enough to try to make contact. He didn’t usually bother, but – and he admitted to his shallowness – Jamie was gorgeous. Herc had a weakness for men who looked like their Celtic roots weren’t that far away. The fact that Jamie hadn’t pressed for more at their second meeting was also a point in his favor. If all Herc got was one night, it would be more than he’d had yesterday, and he’d never been a fan of living like the world was going to end. He’d fought too hard to make sure that the world would spin on, and while he’d had his share of one-night stands, he’d preferred to try to find love. It had been a point of contention between him and Chuck, who’d thought he’d be better off spending his time becoming a better pilot, but Chuck had seen lovers as distractions to his life’s goal of becoming the best jaeger pilot. Herc knew that being too focused on one’s career was the path to burnout and loneliness; a man needed love. 

Herc wasn’t surprised to see his email be routed through a screening process. The reply that eventually hit his inbox the next day was a voice message.

“Figured you’d believe me more if it was a voice attachment rather than typed,” Jamie said, a smile in his voice. “But yes, I’d love to have dinner with you. I’m a jeans and waistcoat kind of guy, and if I leave the Stetson at home, nobody recognizes me. I have a really bad affection for cheap restaurants, so if you want something fancier, please tell me. Call me, please, but not on video – the connection here is something awful.” Jamie rattled off his number, which Herc quickly committed to memory even as he dialed the digits.

“Jamie, this is Herc Hansen.”

“Hold on a sec, sorry. Rachel! Oh, good lord, girl, not that again. Yes, you blew a raspberry. Yes, you think it’s funny. I’m going to ignore you now. Sorry, Herc. I can get a babysitter Friday night if you want to have dinner with me. I really want to get to know you. Unless you don’t eat at cheap dive restaurants.”

“I think I can do better than that for you,” Herc said. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Peanuts. Herc, I don’t want to be a problem for you. I know what it’s like to be famous; people look up to you. I know it’s 2026 and we’re supposed to be past all that petty bullshit about homosexuality, but I still don’t know that many country artists who are openly bisexual and I’ve had way, way too much hate aimed at me. I don’t want you to be a victim of that, especially since I’m not sure if I’m some sort of experiment on the wild side for you or not.”

Herc laughed. Hearing Jamie sound as nervous as Herc felt went a long way to easing the flutter in his gut. “Jamie, if people have a problem with who I date, they can go fuck themselves. I’ve earned the right to live my life. No, you aren’t an experiment for me. You’re not the first guy I’ve been with.”

“It won’t affect you in your position? From what I’ve heard, you’re one of the top military guys in the world right now.”

“The PPDC has had a strict anti-discrimination policy for years,” Herc told him. “If it was an issue, Jamie, I wouldn’t have called you.”

Jamie chuckled.

“My only question for you is where is Rachel’s mother? You wouldn’t answer that question the last time we talked.”

Jamie sighed. “It’s not something I like to advertise, especially in a place like that. God only knows where Liz – that’s Rachel’s mother and my ex-girlfriend – went. She dumped Rachel off on me a week before we were supposed to move to Sydney, said the kid was cramping her style, and that if I wanted a baby so bad, I could have it. We weren’t married and she’d been making noises about how she wanted a bigger house and how we should go traveling…”

“With nothing said about taking Rachel with you?” Herc guessed, angry on Jamie’s behalf.

“None. Long story short, I suddenly had to learn how to be a full-time dad. Liz signed over her rights, so she can't demand anything. Guess I should’ve gotten a clue that she really didn’t want a baby, but a living doll she could play dress-up with. Every time I saw Rachel, Liz had her in some frilly outfit, and Rachel was always hungry or needed her diaper changed. Liz never liked doing either of those things, complained they messed up the dresses she bought. In hindsight, we shouldn’t have gotten together in the first place, but I thought we had something special.”

Herc’s heart ached for Jamie. “Sorry to hear that. Where can I pick you up?”

Jamie gave him an address on the west side of the city, which Herc quickly wrote down. “Six pm okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

Herc smiled. “Don’t fret about that. The place I’m thinking of is Mojito’s – know it?”

“Heard of it, haven't tried. Looking forward to it,” Jamie said, and ended the call. Herc stared at the phone a moment. It had been years since he’d made a date, and he felt like a giddy teenager. Telling himself he was being a foolish old man, Herc forced himself to focus on work.


	4. Chapter 4

_August_

It had become something of a tradition among the senior staff to celebrate the first Friday of the month with a get-together at a local pub. Chuck had found himself looking forward to these events. Now that he’d recovered from his injuries, Chuck had taken on the role of engineering liaison and project coordinator, freeing his father and Mako up from having to sit through as many status meetings with the government and corporate talking heads about the scaled-down, single-pilot jaegers the PPDC was building for civilian use. To nearly everyone’s surprise, Chuck had proven that he could use diplomacy and tact; it just hadn’t mattered to him when fighting the kaiju at all costs had been the goal. Still, the meetings and negotiations often meant that he didn’t see his father, Mako, Raleigh, or Tendo beyond what was necessary for work purposes. The first Friday celebrations were the only time they could all get together and talk about life outside the PPDC. 

Chuck made his way down to his father’s office. Chuck’s office was closer to the main conference room, near the more public areas of the office part of the Shatterdome, but it meant he had to traverse half the facility to get to Herc’s office. Raleigh had offered to trade offices since his was next door to Herc’s, but Chuck had refused. Raleigh had shaken his head and never mentioned it again. To Chuck’s surprise, Herc’s office was dark. 

“You just missed him,” Raleigh offered as he stepped out of his office and shut off the lights. “He won’t be at the party.”

Chuck eyed the older man warily. “Why not?”

Raleigh shrugged. “Judging from the way he rushed out of here, I’d say he had a date.”

“My father does not date,” Chuck growled. "Said he was giving it up." 

“Well, maybe he decided to try again.” Raleigh started towards the exit, then turned. “Are you coming to the party? Or are you going to stand there and pout?”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed, aware that Raleigh was deliberately baiting him. After such a rough start, Chuck had been surprised to discover that the older pilot had been willing to be friends. More importantly to Chuck, Raleigh didn’t hold a grudge. He’d been the one to help Chuck through his physical therapy when Herc’s duties as marshal had made it impossible for Herc to be there. (“You want to deal with your father’s guilt and your pain or do you want the guy who thinks you’re just too stubborn and egotistical to die?” had been Raleigh’s words.) Raleigh wasn’t going to give him slack just because he was disabled, and he wasn’t going to stand for Chuck disrespecting his father, either. Chuck would never admit it aloud, but he appreciated the older pilot’s approach; it meant that Chuck knew there was someone who’d push back when he crossed a line.

“Why are you so eager to see me go with you?” Chuck demanded.

“Because I live to hear you argue about Ian being in a bar,” Raleigh drawled, referring to Chuck’s service dog, and Chuck’s lips twitched, remembering the last time it had happened. “Besides, Grégoire and Tendo both promised they’d bring friends. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to talk to someone who isn’t one of us and isn’t trying to use their position as a reason I should fuck them.”

“So who was it this time?” Chuck asked as he moved to where Raleigh waited.

Raleigh waved his hand dismissively. “Tourist, I mean senator, from Kansas.”

Chuck laughed. “You’re the one who agreed to help Grégoire with publicity,” he pointed out, referring to the PPDC’s marketing director. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to volunteer?”

“Yeah, but,” Raleigh shrugged, “I've never paid them much attention. You know it was a tossup between me and you to help Grégoire and, according to your father, you have zero patience with publicity types.”

“Invariably they say stupid things like ‘your recovery must have been painful.’ No shit, really? I must’ve somehow missed that part.”

Raleigh shared a sympathetic smile as Chuck shook his head and changed the subject. “My ute or yours?”

“Yours. I’ll take a taxi back, but I just need to get out, meet some new people.” Though the city of Sydney had offered to put them in luxury apartments, none of the jaeger pilots had accepted. They’d agreed that they were too used to living in a Shatterdome; anywhere else wouldn’t feel like home. The fact that the ‘dome was also protected by twenty-four hour security went a long way to making them feel secure as well; all of them had stories about overeager fans and zealots. Only Mako, Raleigh, Chuck, and Herc lived in the Shatterdome with a skeleton crew of security and maintenance staff; everyone else who worked for the new PPDC lived off base. 

“You okay, mate?” Chuck knew that the older pilot tended to keep to himself, even in a crowd. He was a loyal, dedicated, disciplined man, but his brother’s death had marked him in ways Chuck was only beginning to understand. Like Chuck was with the project coordination, Raleigh was the least likely candidate for marketing and publicity, but they’d both agreed that they’d do the jobs they were assigned to do.

Raleigh shook his head. “Hasn’t been a good day.”

“You up for this thing?” Chuck studied his friend, genuinely worried. “If you want to duck out, I’ll cover for you.”

Raleigh flashed a tired smile. “Thanks, but I’ll be better in the morning.” His smile turned sheepish. “Just – need someone to distract me for a while. Been spending a little too much time by myself. Maybe if I get laid, I’ll sleep good tonight.”

Chuck stared at him a moment. “You and Mako really aren’t together?”

Raleigh grinned. “Don’t tell me you bought into that rumor, too?”

“That brat. I asked her,” Chuck swore.

Raleigh laughed. “How long have you known her now? Did she give you that look, the one where she looks so serene and calm?”

“Yes, damn it. _That’s_ her poker face? Shit, I’ve been falling for that for years! I’m going to get her for that!”

Raleigh laughed even harder. “Oh, man, she read you good when you were _twelve_.”

“Shut up, Raleigh. So do you know who my dad’s out with?”

Raleigh shook his head. “Only that it’s no one we know.” Raleigh paused to activate the automatic door opener so Chuck and Ian could step through into the next hallway. “Does it bother you to know your dad’s with someone?”

Chuck shifted his shoulders. “Bothered me more when we Drifted; there’s some things a kid shouldn’t know about his dad. The psychs were all worried I’d be traumatized for life, so they had me in therapy a lot when I was first piloting with Dad. If anything, it made me decide I was better off concentrating on being the best jaeger pilot. Dad’s had shit luck with people. Last creep he dated tried to hit on me.”

Raleigh shot Chuck an incredulous look. “Whoever it was didn’t know enough about jaeger pilots, did he?”

Chuck laughed. “No, not really.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jamie had been worried that his black jeans, burgundy dress shirt, and striped waistcoat weren’t dressy enough for where they were going, but looking around, he needn’t have worried. Herc had worn khakis and a three-quarter sleeve, olive green dress shirt. The Latin American-themed restaurant was more upscale than the cheap dives Jamie tended to patronize, but not so upscale that it felt stuffy. The hostess led them to a private booth, then informed them that due to Jamie’s peanut allergy, the chef had opted to provide them with a menu of his choosing.

“You look good,” Herc told him once they were seated. 

Jamie smiled. “So you do you. Do you have to wear a uniform for work?”

Herc nodded. “People expect the Marshal of the PPDC to look a certain way. I’ve been a military man all of my life – I feel more uncomfortable when I’m not in a uniform in public. Does being a country singer mean you have to dress a certain way?”

“People expect it,” Jamie said bluntly. “I never felt comfortable being on stage, claiming to play country music, without a cowboy hat, boots, and jeans. Some artists get away without those trappings, but I knew I wouldn’t be taken seriously if I tried. I’ve played the game, but for the most part, I’ve been wearing the same thing I would’ve worn otherwise.” He shrugged. “I know you’ve probably answered this in a million interviews, but how does it feel to win against the kaiju?”

“I’m relieved, honestly. The last one nearly took out everything we had; if we’d lost, I’m not sure we’d still be here. I heard your anthem a lot when we had more jaegers; some of the pilots really connected with the lyrics. Did you know someone who was a pilot?”

Jamie half-smiled. “One of my guitarists signed up for the Jaeger Academy; he didn’t make the final cut. You know how it is – everyone has stories. It was a generation’s ‘where were you when’ moment. I swear we were falling all over ourselves to pitch in, when we thought, oh, one kaiju, three kaiju, okay, we beat them, no big deal. We’ll go on with our lives. Give a little here, I can afford to do that. But then I heard about how the UN had you deployed to Peru and I wondered how the hell you got to Peru when you were supposed to be defending Australia and the Pacific…that’s when it sunk in that maybe the world was really ending.” Jamie paused as a waiter filled their glasses with wine and set down an appetizer. “Out of curiosity, how did they get Striker Eureka to Peru anyway? Or can you tell me?”

“Military transport, and that’s all I can say, sorry. So who’s watching your daughter tonight?”

Jamie smiled. “I contracted a professional nanny service,” he admitted. “I need one anyway because it’s too easy for me to get lost in the music and forget the rest of the world exists. It was a lot easier when it was just me, but I have Rachel now.”

Herc took a sip of the wine before asking, “Forgive me for asking, but isn’t that expensive?”

Jamie shrugged and took a bite of the appetizer. “I’ve never spent much on myself, even though I’ve done really well with my music. Drives my agent crazy because I really can live in a small space with not much stuff. I was raised by a guy who lived his entire life on a 45-foot two-masted sailboat – a ketch called _The Dreamer_ – built in the '70s for cruising around Polynesia, so I never really had much to begin with. About the only real weaknesses I had, before Rachel was born, were for guitar strings and good clothes, stuff that lasts.” He smiled sheepishly, gesturing to what he was wearing. “Probably a good thing I still fit into the same stuff I’ve had forever.” He watched Herc absorb this information.

Herc’s eyes narrowed. “So what you’re saying is that you can afford more, you just don’t choose to.”

Jamie nodded. “Never really saw the point before. I was sixteen when I had my first hit record, and Ben warned me that the sharks would do their best to make sure I’d never see a cent of it. He said if I lived simply, I’d never miss what I’d never had, so…” Jamie shrugged sheepishly. “Here I am, living the simple life.”

“I’ve never made a lot of money,” Herc admitted. “I’ve been living on a soldier’s pay all my adult life. How do you resist temptation?”

Jamie smiled. “I never wanted to be the guy who wrote about how he was partying in New York and missing the farm, woe is him. It’s easier to write songs about living paycheck to paycheck if I’m still paying rent every month or driving cars that have crappy engines. Ben hated that I was a hopeless mechanic, no matter how many times he tried to show me how to fix an engine.”

“Ben?”

“Ben Pittman, the man who raised me and taught me to sail before I could walk.”

“He wasn’t your father?”

Jamie shook his head. “Not by blood.” He grinned. “When I was a kid, he’d tell me I was a gift from the pirate king for legal services rendered. He never adopted me, and he died without telling me the real story. All he ever would admit to was that he found me as a baby. Some nosy reporter claimed Ben kidnapped me, which was why he lived on a boat and I got a practical education instead of a formal one, but –” Jamie shrugged. “I have no memory where Ben wasn’t there for me, teaching me to be an honorable man. I wrote ‘Knight of the Sea’ in his honor. In another life, he’d been a lawyer; I always got the sense that he’d worked for someone he shouldn’t have.”

Herc leaned in, fascinated. “You’ve never known who your parents are?”

“No, and no one’s come forward – credibly, mind you, I’ve had some wild ones – to fill in the blanks on my birth certificate.” Jamie shrugged again. “If anything, it’s made me determined to make sure Rachel knows who her dad is, so she doesn’t have to question where she came from like I did.”

“So where did you sail?”

“All around the world,” Jamie told him. “When I was twelve, we headed from Panama to Australia; he claimed it was time I went home. Until then, I was convinced I’d been born at sea.”

Herc chuckled. “I can see where you’d think that. You never knew any other relatives?”

Jamie shook his head. “No. I vaguely remember Ben had a girlfriend when I was little, but he told me later that she wanted him to quit the sea and put me in school, let me be a ‘real’ kid. He hired crewmen to help him out after that, but most of them were just interested in one or two trips. The last one was a Dane named Val Kjeldsen who became a good friend – he stayed with us for six years – but it’s hard to share space with a kid for years on end and not wind up railing at the man who was bringing him up that way. Ben and Val would get into these huge arguments sometimes about how I should be on land, living a modern boy’s life, not that of a sixteenth-century cabin boy. As soon as we ported in Sydney, Val took off and we never saw him again.”

“You ever hear from him once you became famous?”

“I thought I might, but no. Val had his reasons for being out to sea for as long as he was; he always told me that some demons will scar a man for life, and he was safer out on the water, where he wouldn’t be tempted.” Jamie shook his head, remembering the burly man. “He was a deeply faithful man, always telling me that it didn’t matter what you labeled religion, you had to believe in something bigger than yourself, or you’d look for answers in a bottle. Ben told me later that Val had served time for murder – he killed someone for raping a child. I figure Val doesn’t want that mess made public again.”

“Sounds like you had a rich foundation for telling stories,” Herc noted.

Laughing, Jamie agreed. “Absolutely. I know that’s where a lot of my songs come from – hearing Ben and Val talk about life on land, how you had to love with all of your heart, believe in fighting the good fight, and be absolutely committed to the course you took while being flexible enough to accept that you might have to make detours. They made sure I understood ‘right’ meant staying within the law, even if I didn’t agree with it.”

Herc nodded in understanding. “Chuck hated that I refused to stop being a soldier, until he became one and understood why I was fighting so hard. He once accused me of raising him to be a jaeger pilot because I didn’t know how to raise him any other way.”

Jamie winced. “I don’t think it’s ever been mentioned in the press about you, but what happened with his mother?”

“She died in the first kaiju attack on Sydney. Chuck was eight years old; I had to choose who to save since I was on duty and had a helicopter I could use, and I chose Chuck.”

“Oh, Herc, I’m sorry.”

Herc sighed. “It’s old news. I haven’t dated much since.” He smiled deprecatingly.

“I can’t imagine why,” Jamie replied. “You’ve only been busy saving the world from kaiju.”

Herc froze for a moment, then laughed freely. “Put it that way, Jamie, and you make me sound like I never made time for anyone at all.”

Jamie shrugged. “I know how it was when I was on tour all the time. You’d find someone who understood you weren’t looking for forever, just something discreet and fun. Unfortunately, that way lends itself to people who’ll run your heart right over and backstab you when you least expect it.”

“Too right,” Herc agreed. He paused and studied Jamie. “You, uh, aren’t making records now?”

Jamie shook his head. “No. Easier to live my life when I’m writing songs for other people, especially now that I have Rachel. I can’t imagine trying to raise her in that circus, touring all the time and stopping by radio and TV stations to promote my records. I admire that you were able to be a single dad and a jaeger pilot.”

Herc smiled ruefully. “If you’d asked Chuck before we sealed the Breach, he’d have told you I sucked at it. He might still.”

“Speaking as a new dad? He’s wrong. I don’t know what kind of support system you had when he was younger, but I imagine you had a ton more resources and friends – real friends, not people you hired – who made things easier for you. I may have enough money to hire people to take care of Rachel, but I still want to be as hands-on as I can be. You strike me as someone who tried to do that, in the only ways you knew how.”

Herc nodded. “Chuck’s given me hell for it over the years for doing what I did, but he’s known I love him and am proud of him since we started copiloting. He wanted to be better than me; it made things rough at times.” Herc shook his head. “Hard to believe in another year he’ll be the same age I was when he was born.”

Jamie looked startled. “He’s what, twenty?”

“Twenty-two,” Herc said. “Youngest pilot ever to graduate from the Jaeger Academy – he did it at sixteen.”

“I thought I remembered that right, but since we’re talking about age, you’re…”

“Forty-five. You?”

“Forty-two. I’ll be forty-three in May.” Jamie shrugged. “Used to think I’d have more to show for being over forty than what I have, but I could never define what exactly that should be. You know how when we were kids, we thought we’d magically have life figured out when we were forty because that was positively ancient?”

Herc stared at him a moment, then laughed. “How old were you when you thought that? Because I swear I had to have been eight.”

“Seven. I was advanced for my age.” Jamie grinned. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always been attracted to older men.” He toasted Herc with his wine glass.

“Is it just the lure of an older man or is me?” Herc wondered bluntly, his blue eyes narrowing.

Jamie inclined his head slightly. “Both. I’m sure you have people after you because of who you are. But I’m gambling I’m not the only one who felt something the other night, or that I’m not the only one feeling something now.”

“You’re not,” Herc assured him, reaching for his hand across the table. “So what do you do when you’re not taking care of your daughter or working on someone’s next hit song?”

“I love movies,” Jamie said promptly. “Westerns, the American ones too, but I’ll watch almost anything, the cheesier the better. Can’t really watch _Godzilla_ anymore, though, and that was one of my late-night, can’t sleep standbys.”

“Raleigh found out a few months ago that Chuck had never seen it. It was priceless to see Chuck’s outrage over the low quality special effects.” Herc chuckled.

“Seriously? I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t have that as some sort of Jaeger pilot initiation ritual. ‘Guys, let’s show this as what not to expect.’”

Herc laughed. “Might’ve helped, I don’t know. You seem pretty well informed for a guy not in the program.”

“Thought about joining,” Jamie admitted. “Then I read the warnings about how a person would be subject to immense heights and immense drops from said heights, and I decided to stay on the sidelines as an enthusiastic cheerleader.” He shrugged. “They wouldn’t have let me join anyway; my career was going too well back then, and I got talked out it. My agent gave me the full details of what I'd be going through - just in case I was considering going behind his back and doing it anyway. Besides, I’m not good with heights.”

“How come?”

“Fell off the top of the main mast when I was ten, trying to untangle the sheet,” Jamie explained. “I was wearing a safety harness that didn’t catch quickly enough, so I didn’t break anything, but the forty-foot drop I took scared me witless. I can handle air travel, but I have to have a window seat.”

Herc made a sympathetic noise. “I love flying, but I’d rather be behind the controls. I’ve lost count of how many flights I’ve wanted to swear at the guy flying.”

“Have they let you fly much?”

“Not since I climbed into a jaeger,” Herc said, shaking his head. “I’m trying to see if I can set something up for fun so I can see how rusty I’ve become, but most of the air travel’s still restricted unless you have a justifiable business reason.”

Jamie nodded. Worldwide security measures had restricted movement in various ways, and even though it had been eighteen months since the Breach had closed, governments were slow to change back to the way it had been before the kaiju. 

“I don’t know if you’re aware that the government censored a lot of the news about what was going on with the jaegers; they didn’t want us to worry. The announcement that the anti-kaiju wall was going up was the first anyone really knew that things weren’t going well. I mean, there were bloggers overseas who swore pilots were dying and the kaiju were getting bigger, but they were often decried as exaggerators and zealots.”

“I…heard,” Herc agreed carefully. “Chuck got obsessive over what we were being told versus the truth; he never completely trusted the information we got.” Herc shrugged. “Can’t change the past.”

“No,” Jamie agreed. “They’re reopening the movie theatre downtown. I’m almost afraid to find out what movie they’ll play first.”

“Something tells me you’ll still want to be first in line.” Herc’s blue eyes gleamed with humor.

Jamie laughed. “Of course. I’ll have to check the date, but if you’re free, I’d like you to be there with me.”

“If it’s that big of an event, I may get invited to cut the ribbon,” Herc warned. “But if that’s the case, I’ll make sure they let you come with me.” He paused. “Want to get out of here, take the leftovers home?”

Guessing that Herc was testing him, Jamie leaned forward. “You are sexy, gorgeous, and I can’t wait to touch you, but I’m not a jaeger groupie interested in checking off the box with your name on it.” Gripping Herc’s hand, Jamie said, “Now I’d like to smack whoever made you think that’s all anyone could be interested in you for.”

Herc leaned in, meeting Jamie’s eyes. “Good. Because I needed to be sure. It’s been years since I was on a date with someone who wanted more.”

“They were idiots,” Jamie shot back, irritated by Herc’s tactics. “And not really people worth your time.”

Herc sat back, satisfied. “Gonna defend my honor to me, Jamie?”

“Hell yes. You may not give a damn about it, but from where I stand, you’re a right gentleman as Val used to say.” Jamie breathed out, aware he’d gotten angry. “I’ve had people throw themselves at me, too – once, rather literally – and I get it, Herc, I really do. I wouldn’t have approached you at that event if I honestly didn’t want to see you again. I normally ignore those things; let my money speak for me. I just figured you were a busy man, which is why I didn’t try to get your phone number then.”

“Easy, mate,” Herc soothed. “Sorry if I picked at an old wound. But I’ve had… people do some pretty out there tricks to get into my good graces.”

“Did any of them work?” Jamie demanded. “Because you don’t strike me as being that stupid.”

Herc laughed. “Not often, but there’s been a few I’ve had to learn about the hard way.” 

“Yeah, same here.”

Deliberately, Herc changed the subject. “So besides movies, what else do you like?”

“I can’t help it, but I still stare out at the ocean, wishing I was on a damned boat. When I was sixteen, I couldn’t wait to get out of it. We sailed so many places, I knew geography, math, and navigation law just from Ben teaching me. Val taught me that cooking was chemistry – he loved science nearly as much as he loved to play guitar and sing Garth Brooks and Tammy Wynette songs. When I was sixteen, Ben made me take my high school equivalency test. I still don’t know who was more surprised when I passed it – me or him. It was part of the deal we made – I passed the exam and I could submit the video to the contest.”

“Must’ve been an interesting way to grow up, surrounded by the ocean.”

“It was,” Jamie agreed. “I hope the oceans recover from the kaiju, but Rachel will probably be an old woman before things start turning around.” 

Herc nodded. “It’ll be a while, but we’ve been able to mitigate some of the kaiju blue damage, at least in the harbors, closer to the shore, and wherever we’ve had a fight with the kaiju. So what happened to Ben?”

“He died of a heart attack on his boat. Coast Guard found him adrift; I’d just quit touring and was planning to meet up with him. When I didn’t get any answer on his phone, I started to worry.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Jamie smiled. “He died where he wanted to be. He was my pirate king to the end.”

“And the boat?”

“I sold it after Ben died,” Jamie said quietly. “It was in poor shape by then, and not worth trying to salvage. Boats are holes in the water you pour money into, and as much as it was my childhood home, I couldn’t imagine going back.”

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of conversation, flirting, and food. By the end of it, Jamie was convinced that he wanted more time to spend with this intriguing, complex man. Herc even escorted Jamie to the door of his apartment, kissing him good night in a way that left Jamie aching. 

“Come in,” Jamie begged.

Herc shook his head. “You have to be sure, Jamie. What you’re getting with me is more than just the guy I am; there’s the celebrity. And you have a wee one who’s going to need your attention. I don’t want to be the cause of another guy fucking up his chance at fatherhood.”

“You won’t be,” Jamie said, convinced of it. He read the resolve on Herc’s face, and sighed. “I’ll give you a week, Herc. I’m the one who’s sure. I’m a celebrity, too, in case you’ve forgotten. Are you sure you want to be with me, deal with the shit that comes with being with a singer? If you are, then call me.” Exasperated, Jamie flung open the door of his apartment, stepped inside, and nearly slammed it shut before remembering it would startle the nanny and undoubtedly wake Rachel.

Clearly, he was out of his mind to want Herc Hansen; the man was just too...Jamie couldn't think of the right word and settled for an all-encompassing grunt. The nanny looked at him uncertainly, and Jamie forced himself to put on his public persona for as long as it took to check in with the nanny and then send her on her way.


	6. Chapter 6

“What’s with you, old man?” Chuck demanded six days later as they stood on the mat in the kwoon. “You act like you’ve forgotten how to fight, and you’ve been giving me a headache all week.”

Herc shot his son an annoyed look. One of the side effects of Drifting with someone for a long time was being able to feel your copilot’s emotions. Herc knew he hadn’t been shielding his emotions as well as he’d hoped, but Chuck had always been a drama queen about feeling said bleed-over. “I said I was sorry,” he growled. “I was just taking it easy on you –”

“Why, because I have a thousand pins holding my legs together and my right foot’s fused at the ankle?” Chuck gestured with the fighting stick he was using. “Never stopped you before. Hell, you were trying to get me to fight you when I was stuck in a wheelchair, just so I could reach for something. Where’s your brain at? Because it’s certainly not here in this room.”

“Sorry.” Herc walked off the mat to wipe his face off with a towel and mentally refocus. He knew there’d be some people who’d be shocked he was willing to face off against his son this way, given the damage already done, but the mixed martial art they practiced was built on a strong sense of core and balance. Chuck needed the sparring to keep his body in shape. It was highly modified from the intense level they’d once practiced, but Chuck was right – there was no way he should’ve been able to take Herc out with such a basic move. 

Ten minutes later, Herc conceded defeat. He was off his game.

“What is with you?” Chuck stared at him. “You’ve been distracted all week. Was she that good in bed?”

Herc shot his son a look. “I’m not going to discuss details with you.”

“Thank God we don’t have to Drift anymore, because I don’t have to see those details ever again,” Chuck sniped as he limped off the mat to where Ian waited. “Better work on those shields, old man.”

Herc swore, but he couldn’t bring himself to chase after Chuck. He’d learned long ago that reaction led to the kind of fight Chuck wanted – no holds barred, no quarter given. Herc had promised himself that if Chuck survived, he’d walk away from that kind of madness, work on trying to be a better father. It was moments like this one, though, where he was painfully reminded that they’d spent the better part of a decade being adversarial outside of the conn-pod.

Reaching for his phone, Herc decided that he’d at least settle one part of his life. Chuck would just have to deal, like always.

“I know it’s short notice, but I was wondering if I could come by, maybe bring dinner?” he asked when Jamie answered the phone.

“If it’s something I can eat one-handed, sure,” Jamie said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Rachel doesn’t want to be put down.”

Herc smiled. “Give me an hour.”


	7. Chapter 7

Not for the first time since he’d met Jamie, Herc marveled at the man’s preference for residence. The apartment building was old, but it had its own off-street parking lot; the front door lock was busted and looked as though it hadn’t been repaired in some time. The building didn’t have more than twenty-four units, judging from the mailboxes in the hall. A sign on the elevator indicated that it was out of service, so Herc jogged up the stairs to the second floor, takeout from a nearby restaurant in hand. 

“Jamie, it’s Herc,” he said as he knocked on Jamie’s apartment door.

Jamie opened the door a moment later, holding a wide-eyed Rachel. Looking equal parts relieved and nervous, he stepped aside to let Herc into the apartment. Mindful of Rachel, Herc took a moment to kiss Jamie hello, and felt Jamie relax, as if he’d been afraid Herc didn’t still want him.

Stepping back, Herc took a moment to survey the apartment. The space was not large – maybe 60 square meters at most. Jamie hadn’t spent his money on furniture; the living room set looked old and worn, as if it had been passed to him secondhand. He hadn’t bought a dining room table, either; a high-chair sat at the breakfast bar next to a pair of bar stools.

“Sorry,” Jamie apologized as Herc set the food down on the breakfast bar and began taking out containers, “but I hate decorating. Peter – that’s my agent – swears I’m living like a college student.”

Herc chuckled. “It’s been years since I lived anywhere other than in PPDC-provided housing, so I’m not one to judge.” 

“Thanks. It’s two bedrooms, one bath, but it’s definitely small. I had a heck of a time shoving my bed into the master.” Jamie shifted Rachel to his other shoulder. “You gonna sleep for me, baby girl?”

Herc smiled. “Doesn’t look like she will,” he said, amused by the way she kept trying to turn her head to see who was talking. “I brought sandwiches. Hope you like roast chicken.”

“As long as it wasn’t cooked in peanut oil, we’re good,” Jamie said.

“I asked,” Herc replied. “They said no.” He tried not to take offense at the suggestion he’d forget Jamie’s allergy, but he knew he sounded irritated.

“Sorry,” Jamie apologized. “Just…had people forget.”

Herc rolled his eyes. “I try not to forget things about the people I’m dating.” He paused, then added slowly, “Or my friends, if you’ve decided it would be too complicated.”

Jamie blew out a breath. “Might be easier,” he agreed, “but not as much fun. If you’re willing to put up with nights like this –” he gestured to Rachel “ – I’ll do what I can to make sure they aren’t too many.”

“My job might not be the world-is-ending-kind-of-stress it was before we closed the Breach,” Herc told Jamie, “but I’m used to putting in long hours. As Marshal, I’m expected to do so. I usually have weekends free, but I don’t want to ignore my son, either. I want to give us a try, Jamie.”

Jamie reached his free hand out to grasp Herc’s. “I’d kiss you right now, but she’s starting to fall asleep and she’s getting fidgety, fighting it. Sometimes she kicks.”

Herc gripped Jamie’s hand and kissed the back of it before letting go and taking a seat on one of the bar stools. “I can wait. How goes the songwriting?”

“Right now, it’s not. I’ve been too distracted all week – the nanny service I hired informed me that the woman I had moved to Brisbane, would I like to interview a new candidate?”

“You don’t want someone new?”

Jamie shook his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just – they’re all expecting Jamie the successful singer-songwriter, and they get…me. Jeans, t-shirt, bare feet, no Stetson, no waistcoat, no dress shirt, no boots…I mean, really. I like dressing up, but I’m working from home with a six-month-old. On top of that, I’m living…here. No security, no fanfare, no awards on the wall, as anonymous as I can get.”

Herc chuckled. “Well, for a guy who has the fame and success as you do – it would seem like you should be living more comfortably.”

Jamie shrugged. “Maybe, but I felt trapped and disconnected living like that,” he said. “Yes, baby, you should sleep now, yes. No? Okay. You just want to be close to Dad, got it.”

“Chuck won’t admit it, but he’s done that to me a few times,” Herc reminisced wryly. “After we started piloting together, he’d blame it on the Drift hangover, but sometimes…sometimes it was just because he couldn’t and wouldn’t admit he needed a hug from his old man.”

“So you’re saying they never quite grow up?” Jamie looked at his daughter in alarm.

“Sorry, mate, but that girl right there is going to be your baby girl no matter what,” Herc told him, amused.

“I really am going to have to beat people off with sticks, won’t I?”

“Well, if you want lessons, I’d be happy to teach you.”

Jamie laughed. “You’re what, a black belt fight master?”

“Something like, yeah.”

“Might take you up on it,” Jamie said, grinning. “I’m getting my exercise hauling Rachel around; miss going to the gym.”

Herc smiled, enjoying this odd date. “Have you tried singing to her, rocking her to sleep?”

Jamie looked startled, then groaned. “Thank you for stating the obvious. I don’t know any lullabies, though; probably why I didn’t think of it.”

Herc chuckled. “Well, I’d like to hear you sing, too.”

Jamie considered. “Been a while since I sung anything of mine, not sure I remember the words to them all anymore,” he admitted sheepishly, surprising Herc. 

“You stopped singing your own songs?”

“Every time I sing something I wrote, especially the stuff I wrote back then, I remember what I was going through that inspired it. It’s emotionally draining. After I got stage fright, I couldn’t sing, and what I did remember was the stuff that wasn’t as popular – the B-sides, the stuff that didn’t get released or didn’t do as well on the charts.”

“I don’t want to stir up bad memories –” Herc began.

Jamie shook his head. “Part of doing what I do. Can’t get on a motorcycle thinking of the last time you crashed; you’d never put the thing in gear; can’t sing songs without feeling them or else they lack passion and conviction.” Herc nodded his understanding and Jamie flashed him a smile. “So we’ll go with some old Billy Joel, something Ben loved.” Shifting Rachel again, Jamie took a deep breath and began to sing as he rocked her in his arms. “Well, I’m on the _Downeaster Alexa,_ and I'm cruising through Block Island Sound. I have charted a course to the Vineyard, but tonight I am Nantucket bound…” he sang in a clear baritone.

Herc sat, fascinated by Jamie’s voice. He’d never heard the song before, but it was clearly one that Jamie knew well. Rachel tried desperately to stay awake, but it wasn’t long before she finally succumbed. Jamie took the time to put her to bed before he picked up the dinner Herc had brought and started eating.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before,” Herc said quietly as he finished his share of the meal, “but you have a beautiful voice.”

Jamie smiled. “Thanks, and it felt good to sing that one again. Ben taught me that when I was five or six – I don’t remember when, exactly, but it’s one of the songs I know I’ve been singing all of my life.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. What’s it called?”

“‘Downeaster Alexa’.” Jamie busied himself with putting away the garbage from their dinner as he added, “Ben had a love for songs that told stories; he’d tell me that was ‘real’ music, not that ‘head-banging noise or bubblegum pop shit.’ I had no clue what in the world he meant until I went on TV and had to pick songs from a playlist of music I’d never heard before. I was convinced all I had to do was last until they let me sing one of my own songs.”

Jamie exited out of the small kitchen to step closer to Herc, who’d moved to the loveseat; the bar stool wasn’t exactly the height of comfortable.

“I know it might seem like I’m rushing things, and terribly unromantic, but I don’t want you to leave without settling one question of mine.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” Herc asked. 

Jamie leaned in for a long, heated kiss before he drew back. “Did you come prepared?”

Herc smiled, having anticipated the question. “Been a while, Jamie?”

“Three years since I’ve been with a guy; Liz…let’s say it’s been a year without sex,” Jamie replied. “Haven’t gotten around to buying new supplies yet, and…well, it’s never as much fun alone. Wasn’t expecting you to call me back. Hoping, yes, but not planning.”

Herc kissed him again before saying, “Be easier to do this in the bedroom than here.”

Jamie laughed and led the way to the bedroom. It wasn’t a fiery passion, Herc reflected as he followed, admiring Jamie’s ass and the way the faded T-shirt outlined his back; something steadier, quieter, but no less potent in its heat or its siren call. Herc had known wildfires that had burned arousal through his blood, scorching scars along the way; this…this felt like the Drift, when it was new and intoxicating for it. Never one to back down from that kind of heat, Herc willingly surrendered to it. He could feel Jamie’s equally fervent answer in the urgency of his kisses, the hasty way he tried to get them both undressed, and the eagerness of his response.

It was something of a relief to laugh a little over the sudden awkwardness that came with being a little too caught up in desire to do more than just rut against each other. Other lovers might’ve considered the moment ruined, maybe even embarrassing, but somehow Jamie’s dry, “And here I thought I was going to be first,” made Herc laugh, and then Jamie tried to hold back his laughter as he followed Herc’s lead.

They made love again sometime later, taking it slower this time, and actually getting out the lube and condoms Herc had brought. Herc relished the way Jamie arched up into him as Herc thrust, the way Jamie’s hands roamed Herc’s body as if he couldn’t stop caressing him. Jamie wasn’t a vocal lover, but Herc quickly discovered Jamie’s hands grew more restless the closer he got to climax.

“Take yourself in hand, babe,” Herc ordered his new lover, and watched the flush of arousal on Jamie’s pale skin darken. Still, Jamie did what he was told, and Herc knew he’d hit a button. “That’s it, yes, stroke yourself, show me.” Herc grasped Jamie’s hips more firmly and aimed for Jamie’s prostate on each stroke, wanting to take Jamie over the edge with him. Herc watched as Jamie cried out soundlessly, and let go of his own control.


	8. Chapter 8

Chuck knocked on the door to his father’s apartment, located, due to the upgrade for his rank as marshal, down a separate hallway from the other residences. He was starting to feel like he was caught in a loop of knocking on his father’s doors; this was now the fourth weekend in a row that he’d tried to get a hold of his dad, only to find silence. Picking up his phone, Chuck dialed his father’s number. It went straight to voicemail, and Chuck frowned. 

“Hey, it’s me. I was going to see if you were up to shooting some pool, but I guess you’re busy. Catch you later.”

Disappointed, Chuck wandered over to Raleigh’s room. Raleigh lay on his bunk, reading a book. From the glimpse Chuck caught of the words, it looked like it was in Japanese. Mako sat at his feet, reading a tablet. Both of them wore tank tops and sweats, the standard-issue PT uniform of the PPDC. The stillness between them spoke of a harmony achieved in the Drift – a harmony Chuck knew instantly he’d only had with his father on their best days. For moment, he envied and hated them, but just as quickly as he recognized the emotions, he pushed them aside. They were too good to him to let such feelings fester, and he knew that without them, he’d have died a lot sooner.

“Hey. You guys have to quit partying so hard, I can’t hear myself think.”

Two pairs of eyes looked at him guilelessly before Mako replied, “Then don’t think. It’s overrated on a Saturday night.”

“What are you two doing here? Shouldn’t you be out on the town?”

“Street festival,” Mako replied. “Too many people and security thinks it might turn ugly.”

“So where’s my old man?”

“On a date,” Raleigh said. “Some guy named Jamie Maloney came by to pick him up. Good looking dude, too.”

Chuck shot Raleigh a look. “You met him?”

“I happened to be in the lobby when he showed up. Why, was I supposed to make sure he met your approval? Your dad’s old enough to make his own decisions.”

Chuck swore he could hear Raleigh and Mako mentally counting the seconds it would take before he exploded. “You’ll forgive me I don’t want my father falling for the same stupid gambits.”

“You are a good son to protect your father’s virtue, but you do not want him to have a little happiness?” Mako asked.

“A little happiness, sure,” Chuck shot back. “Just…” He stopped short of saying, “I just got him back as the dad I thought I’d never have,” and settled for a partial truth. “You’ve never had to really deal with the groupies the way we have, Mako.”

“I never told you about the marriage proposal I got when I was eleven and it became known that Coyote Danger rescued me, the sole survivor of Onibaba’s attack on the park.”

Chuck stared at Mako. “Mako, did they not see you were just a kid?”

“It didn’t matter to him. I think that was what motivated Sensei to adopt me as swiftly as he did; he was afraid that if I was placed elsewhere, someone less scrupulous would sell me to the highest bidder.”

Raleigh sat up at that. “Want to trade ‘worst groupie’ stories, Chuck? I’m sure that between the three of us, we’ve some doozies.”

Almost reluctantly, Chuck pulled out the chair from the desk and sat down. They weren’t going to give him the room to sulk over coming in second place, again, to what his father wanted, so he had to settle for what he could get: trying to figure out why they were so happily at home. “I don’t get it. You two aren’t interested in going out?”

“To what end?” Raleigh asked. “I’m tired of getting stared at like a piece of meat. If I’m with you or Mako, we attract the photo hounds and the groupies.”

“You didn’t mind a few weeks ago,” Chuck pointed out.

“A few weeks ago I was going out of my head,” Raleigh shot back calmly. “Sex shuts up the part of my brain that thinks it’s still a part of Yancy.”

“Drifting with Mako didn’t help with that?”

“No.” Raleigh looked at him, annoyed. “Did drifting with Stacker get Herc out of your brain?”

“N- shit, Raleigh, Stacker was all cool water, except at the end, when all he could think about was how he had to complete the mission so you’d live, Mako. I didn’t even realize he was planning to knock me out until he did it and by then it was too late to change anything.”

“But you had a moment where you weren’t connected to Stacker at all. If he hadn’t knocked you out, you’d be like me.”

Chuck froze, remembering how Raleigh had been at the pub that night. For a man who was, by his own admission, more content to spend his free time alone or with a select few, Raleigh had been uncharacteristically exuberant and charming. Chuck shuddered to think what he might have picked up from Stacker, had Stacker not severed their neural connection in a way that left Chuck’s mind undamaged. Chuck knew the habits he’d picked up from his father through the Drift; they hadn’t always wound up, in Chuck’s opinion, to be good ones. “That wasn’t you oozing charm like it was going out of style?”

Raleigh half-laughed. “Was me, before, but Yancy…Yancy was better. I told you I have a messed up brain.”

Chuck snorted. “You’ll have a hard time convincing me of that, mate.” 

Raleigh shrugged. “So if you aren’t going to join our little reading party, what were you headed out to do?”

“Thought I’d go shoot some pool.”

“Some of the techs set a table up in Testing Room 3,” Mako said. “They were using it to test the C-jaeger arm precision, but –” 

“We’re almost ready to ship the first ones to customers,” Chuck finished, aware Mako was offering him a compromise. Even with Ian, Chuck knew he couldn’t handle large crowds; it was simply too much for him since he couldn’t rely on having enough space to move. “Isn’t the table damaged from the testing?”

“A requisition for a new pool table may have passed my desk,” Mako said with a smile.

Hours later, having discovered that playing against two Drift partners was just as much a bad idea as it had been the first time he’d tried it as a cocky fifteen-year-old, Chuck made his way back to his room, which was at the opposite end of the hallway from his father’s apartment. Max barked just at the crossroads and began tugging at his leash, demanding to be let go. 

Swearing as Max threatened his balance, Chuck dropped Max’s leash to let him run towards Herc before gripping Ian’s handle. Readjusted, Chuck looked up in time to see his father snap, “Max, stop.”

The bulldog whined pathetically, but stopped halfway between his two masters. Herc moved forward to pick up Max’s leash and pet him.

Herc looked…different, Chuck realized. Calmer, happier, well-fucked, and…halfway to falling in love, Chuck thought with dawning horror. The Drift had taught him how to recognize that look, that walk, that ease in his shoulders. _Shit._

It wasn’t that Chuck was against his father getting laid; it was just that he’d done so with such _idiots_ in the past that Chuck had to keep reminding his dad that he was better at being a jaeger pilot, so why the hell did he waste his time on romance? Chuck knew, though, that his father still believed in love. As far as Herc was concerned, if you didn’t love an ideal so much that you were willing to die for it, you didn’t love at all, and loving people – even if they weren’t perfect – made the fight worth it. Chuck wasn’t entirely convinced. 

In any case, the last thing Chuck needed in his life was dealing with a heartbroken father. Herc tended to get grumpy when that happened, and difficult to deal with. Before, Chuck would’ve easily taken his father on, let him vent his frustration in the kwoon, but that kind of sparring was at a level beyond Chuck’s current physicality. Raleigh and Mako might be willing to do it, but…as quickly as that thought came to mind, Chuck said no to it. Herc wouldn’t let go with them, needing to maintain the level of respect that came with his rank.

It was past time he paid this Jamie Maloney a visit and made sure he understood the consequences, Chuck thought. Mess with one Hansen, you messed with both of them.

As if sensing his thoughts, Herc looked up from petting Max and rose to his feet. Almost immediately, Herc tensed. “Saw you tried to call earlier, but I got distracted. Didn’t think you’d still be up.”

“Was trying to beat Mako and Raleigh at pool,” Chuck told him, not sure he liked how tense his father was. He could feel Herc’s wariness, and it made Chuck uncomfortable. Whoever Jamie was, he’d been good enough to make Herc relax fully, and losing that – that was something Chuck was mentally kicking himself for; he didn’t _need_ his father, the marshal, on his ass for ruining his good mood. Trying for his best put-upon tone, Chuck continued, “I can’t shoot a combo anymore. You know how disgraceful that is?”

“Son, you never could pull off a good combo. Not unless we were in Striker.”

“Yeah, well, turns out I need more balance than I used to. Tried using Ian to help once; that made Raleigh laugh.” He paused, worried now that the comment hadn’t made his father grin. “Don’t worry, Dad, I gave up on beating up Raleigh before that last mission in Striker.”

Seeing a marginal relaxation in Herc’s stance at those words, Chuck let out a breath. “So this Jamie guy, who is he?”

"He’s a couple years younger than me, not too much. You met him back in July – he’s the guy whose transmission dropped out near Lithgow.”

Chuck’s eyes widened. “I thought you said you didn’t get his number.”

“I didn’t – not then. He was at the Mid-Winter charity event last month.” Herc paused, then straightened his shoulders. “I’m not going to stop dating him, Chuck. Like I told you a long time ago, your mother’s been dead for years, and I never said I’d be a monk in her memory.”

He wasn’t jealous, damn it, Chuck thought, and fought the flare of emotion that came with thinking those words. Just…not ready to let his dad be with anyone else, especially since history told him that Herc had a lousy record for relationships. Still, they’d hashed this argument out before, too many times. Herc always forgave him for being protective, but it felt different, somehow, this time. 

Chuck picked his words carefully, aware that he didn’t have the luxury of the Drift anymore to make his apologies. “I just don’t want you getting taking advantage of or getting hurt, Dad.”

“Appreciate the concern, son, but Jamie’s not that kind of guy. He’s had his own share of heartaches, doesn’t want to be the cause of any of mine if he can help it.” Herc looked at Chuck with finality, and Chuck sighed inwardly. He knew that look; he’d worn it himself a time or dozen. “Did you take the dogs out?”

“Yeah, but I think Ian’s getting a little tired of Max being a wild one.”

“I’ll take Max, give Ian a break. You want to head out for breakfast, go to that place down south you like?”

“Around nine?”

Herc nodded. “Late as it is, I don’t see myself waking up at the crack of dawn. Not without a lot of coffee and a hell of a good reason.” Herc paused. “And Chuck?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to see you and Raleigh getting along.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? We’ve been friends for months,” Chuck demanded, but his father shut his door. Aware that badgering would get him nowhere, Chuck decided to ignore the oddball comment for now and go to bed.


	9. Chapter 9

Somehow, Chuck wasn’t entirely surprised to see Jamie at breakfast. Meeting him again, Chuck saw what had attracted his father in the first place. Jamie had an oval face, deep-set green eyes, high cheekbones, a prominent nose, and full lips. He’d shaved, and Chuck suspected Jamie was one of the lucky guys who wouldn’t need to do it again later in the day. Wide shoulders tapered down to a somewhat trim waist, and he wore a long-sleeved, royal blue dress shirt under a matching black-and-blue pinstriped waistcoat. Faded blue jeans hugged lean hips and long legs, and short boots covered his feet. Jamie wasn’t an athlete or a soldier, someone at the peak of fitness, but he hadn’t neglected his body, either. In deference to the spring chill, a fleece-lined denim coat hung on the back of the chair where he’d been sitting, waiting for them to arrive. Then Chuck noticed the car carrier in the child seat next to where Jamie was sitting.

“Nice to finally meet you, Chuck,” Jamie said as they sat down. “This is Rachel, my daughter.”

Chuck stared and mentally swore. He had very little experience with babies, but it was hard not to look at Rachel and see just how she was taking after her father. The heart Chuck tried very hard to pretend he didn’t have fell in love. “She’s very pretty,” Chuck managed. 

Jamie chuckled. “I’ll be beating people off with sticks when she’s older.”

Chuck managed to swallow the words, “I’ll help,” by reaching for the mug of coffee the server poured for him. He burned his tongue, but right now, he didn’t care. Beside him, Herc eyed him warily.

“You all right?” Herc asked.

“I’m fine.” Chuck busied himself with the menu, though they’d been coming here long enough that he’d memorized what he wanted. 

After placing their orders, Jamie said, “Herc tells me you’re the engineering liaison for the new construction jaegers. It must be quite a change from piloting a jaeger.”

“I was always tinkering with Striker, trying to fix things, and working with the crews to make it better. The Jaeger Academy gave me the equivalent of a mechanical engineering degree, and we need to have someone who can articulate the technical aspects and work with non-engineering people. Mako’s busy leading the engineers and Raleigh’s working on the publicity, so that leaves me to play project coordinator. Everyone keeps reminding me that it’s a learning experience, but some days – well, fighting a kaiju was easier.”

Jamie laughed. “I have those days, too. Mine usually involve trying to convince my agent I don't need more than I have."

"Agent?"

“I write songs,” Jamie replied, smiling.

Herc shot Jamie an odd look, as if he knew more, but Jamie ignored him. “Probably nothing you’ve heard unless you like country music.”

“Nah, I’d rather listen to techno or house,” Chuck said. “Dad’s the country and rock fan. You do well writing that kind of stuff?”

“I do all right,” Jamie allowed, and glared at Herc when he looked as though he wanted to correct Chuck’s impression. “People look at me weird, though, when I hear one of my songs on the radio. I’m jumping up and down saying, ‘That’s my song!’ and they’re hearing a female singer…”

Despite his initial inclination to dislike the man, the picture he painted drew a reluctant laugh from Chuck. “So do you sing?”

“Used to, not as much as I do now,” and the way Herc kept shooting Jamie looks said volumes.

Chuck’s eyes narrowed. “Nobody’s that humble, mate. Way Dad’s acting, you’re more famous than you’re letting on.”

Jamie grinned. “You didn’t recognize my name, so I wanted to see how far you’d let me run with it. I had a bunch of hit records when I was in my late teens, early twenties; now I write songs for other people.”

Chuck studied Jamie, who didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. “Would you like to examine my portfolio?” Jamie went on in an even tone. “Or check my teeth? I’m up to date on all my vaccinations and am in excellent health. I’ve been a flag-waving bisexual since I was sixteen and am currently the only openly LGBTQ country artist ever to win multiple ARIAs.”

Chuck stared at him a moment and barked out a laugh as his father tried desperately not to do the same. “You’re tougher than you look, Jamie Maloney.”

“Had to be. I grew up a sailboat with two men who had a shared hate for bad justice, a hellacious amount of love for a kid who wasn’t theirs by blood, and no room for fistfights, not if we wanted to keep sailing to the next port.”

Chuck’s resolve to dislike the man was crumbling fast, but he wasn’t about to let him off the hook just yet. “You grew up at sea?”

Nodding, Jamie said, “Until I was sixteen, the longest stays I’d been on land involved either me getting hurt, Ben getting hurt, or the boat needed repairs we couldn’t make.”

“Ever feel the need to go back out there?”

Jamie laughed. “Probably not as much as I suspect you’d like me to,” and Chuck could feel his father’s amusement. It ticked him off.

As if recognizing the danger he was in, Jamie changed the subject. “So what kind of dog is your service dog?”

Chuck grinned. “Ian is a mutt. The service dog organization said they think he’s a cross between an Irish wolfhound and a Great Dane. He’s a giant, but I needed a tall dog. He’s pretty laidback, but I have to make sure I make him run every day or he gets a little stir-crazy. Since the best I can do these days is a fast hobble, Raleigh and Mako usually take him out.”

“Fast hobble,” Herc scoffed. “You’re just mad you can’t beat Raleigh yet.”

“Don’t remind me,” Chuck shot back. “How much is the bet up to now?”

Jamie stared at them, astonished. “You bet on each other?”

Chuck looked at his father, abruptly realizing that no one had understood the ways they’d goaded each other over the years. “Motivation,” Chuck explained with a smile. “I’ve always been a goal-oriented kind of guy.”

“Do you think there will be a lot of companies willing to use the construction jaegers?” Jamie asked as their orders were delivered.

“They can’t afford not to,” Chuck said. “Some areas of the world are off-limits to anyone not suited up properly, and this will allow them to basically operate a portable, manned, precision pickup and demolition machine safely.” He dug into his pancakes. After taking a bite, he said, “Don’t get me started; I swear I have the sales pitch memorized in three languages.”

Jamie laughed. “You sound proud of what you’re building.”

“Way I figure it, there’s probably some kid out there wishing he could pilot a jaeger, same as I did when I was ten. Least I can do is make sure he gets that kind of chance, albeit one in a world where there are no kaiju to fight.” Chuck grinned. He was starting to like Jamie, and knew that if Herc had told him that they were meeting him at this time, he’d have come in prepared to attack the man. By not telling him in advance, Chuck had to formulate an opinion before picking his strategy. 

Chuck waited until they’d almost finished breakfast and Herc excused himself to go to the restroom before making his move. “You’re not my dad’s usual pick,” Chuck noted easily and watched Jamie tense. “So it makes me wonder what your end game is.”

Jamie studied him a moment. “Do you hate your father that much?”

“People think that, but no. Never did, never have,” Chuck said with a smile. “He just raised a jaeger pilot instead of a son, made things complicated.” Chuck shrugged. “But that means if you fuck with him, if you’re just playing some kind of long con, I will make sure you regret it by whatever means I have. Or you’d rather get paid now, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow and leaned in. “I won’t be bought like some cheap whore. You do this to all of your dad’s partners?”

“Just the ones standing in the way of his happiness.”

“You need a new hobby, Chuck. I’m starting to care a lot about your father, and I won’t let you or anyone else hurt him. He’s been hurt enough.”

“Glad you recognize that,” Chuck said evenly. “Just don’t want you to lose focus and forget your daughter.”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “I will never ignore my daughter.” Rachel chose then to express herself, and Jamie deliberately focused on her. 

“Good, because Herc will be pretty busy the next few weeks, what with the fiscal year meeting with the UN and getting ready for the launch of the first set of C-jaegers,” Chuck drawled. “Probably won’t have much time to spare anyway.”

Jamie looked surprised at that. “Herc didn’t say anything about that.”

“Maybe that’s why he’d trying to kill two birds with one stone, splitting the time he’d spend with me with you.”

“I didn’t realize he was ignoring you. Sorry.”

Chuck waved off the apology. “I’d appreciate it if you kept that in mind. He’s a busy man, and his free time is limited.”

Jamie's eyes narrowed at that. "You'll have to try harder to get rid of me, Chuck, because I won't be intimidated into giving up a chance to love as fine a man as your father. I’ve been a successful solo artist since I was sixteen. I don’t need a man to be happy, but I’d prefer not to walk through life alone. I wind up writing way too many sad songs when that happens. You can accept me or you can hate me, but I’m not going anywhere. Not unless Herc tells me we’re done.”

“Well, then, you’d better make the most of the time you have, then. Would hate to see him unhappy, now would we? Because when he’s not happy and it’s not my fault, I start kicking ass.” Satisfied he’d made his point, Chuck leaned back in his chair as his father returned to the table. He felt victorious when Herc made a point of spending the rest of the afternoon with Chuck. 

Two weeks and yet another shared breakfast with Jamie and Rachel later, Chuck found himself dropped off at the Shatterdome so Herc and Jamie could be together. The shift in Herc’s attention caught Chuck off-guard.

Cuddling with Max had always been his refuge when he’d been unable to get his father’s attention, when he’d been exiled from messing with Striker, when the world had been ignoring him. As he’d heard Mako and Raleigh talking about shopping for some oddball tea Mako was craving, he was more or less alone. Max happily curled up on the bed, and Ian even tried to get in on the act, shamelessly begging for skritches. Ian was too well trained to jump on beds, and Chuck was grateful as the dog outweighed him.

He was indulging in his favorite kind of pity party, surrounded by dogs on either side, and had even managed to fall asleep when Ian’s bark woke him. Chuck blinked at the sight of Raleigh in his room, and from the way he handled his phone, Chuck was certain the older man had just snapped his picture. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” Chuck snapped, sitting up. Raleigh had the access code to Chuck’s room thanks to the months of PT, but Raleigh usually respected Chuck’s privacy.

“Confirming vicious rumors that you sleep in a puppy pile,” Raleigh drawled, amusement lighting his eyes. “Where’s Herc?”

“On a date.”

Raleigh looked at Chuck for a long moment, and Chuck fought the urge to squirm uncomfortably under that stare. “Aww, poor baby, feeling neglected?” Raleigh drawled. 

The smug amusement in that statement made Chuck pick up a pillow and throw it at Raleigh. Raleigh ducked easily before picking it up and tossing it back. “You just here to give me hell?” Chuck demanded, abruptly aware that he’d been sulking and Raleigh had caught him at it. 

Since his near-death, Herc had been there for Chuck in a way his son had never seen, making sure that when Herc couldn’t be there, he sent people in his stead who genuinely wanted to be with Chuck, not because they’d been ordered to do so. It didn’t change the fact that he’d gotten closer to his dad, or that Herc had been deliberately spending his free time with Chuck. While that was all well and good, Chuck was conscious that his father was a passionate man, and it had been a long time since Herc had been with anyone. Herc dating again was an inevitable thing; there was no reason for Chuck to be jealous. After all, he got to work with his father in something that still involved jaegers, albeit on a smaller scale. 

Mentally, he frowned, not liking the direction of his thoughts or the emotion behind them. He was a grown man, a jaeger pilot who’d survived a 2,400 lb thermonuclear bomb; he was not going to act like he was eight years old, mad at his father for going away on yet another mission. Was he? Shaking his head at himself, he focused back on Raleigh.

“You worked through your pity party yet?” Raleigh demanded. “I have some popcorn in my room if you’d like to go on.”

Chuck blew out a breath, hating how easily the older man read him. “Yeah. So what are you doing in my room?”

“Came to see if you had dinner plans, and you weren’t answering my knock. Wanted to be sure you were okay,” Raleigh said easily, and Chuck blinked. He hadn’t realized just how much time had passed. The mess hall only served meals during the weekdays to save on costs, but the service kitchen, located off what had been the jaeger launch bays, was available for anyone in the Shatterdome on the weekends. Both Mako and Raleigh knew how to cook; Chuck could heat stuff in a microwave and boil water, but that was about the extent of his knowledge. Sunday nights were usually ‘eat rations’ or ‘eat out’ nights if neither Raleigh or Mako were around; Chuck refused to eat whatever his father attempted just because it was never as good as Herc had made it sound.

“Where’s Mako?” Chuck stalled. Without looking in a mirror, he knew his hair was a mess, and there was dog drool on his shirt and his sweatpants. Why that suddenly mattered to him, Chuck wasn’t sure. Raleigh had seen him so doped up on painkillers he’d drooled worse than Max.

“She has other plans, so it’s just you and me,” Raleigh said easily, tossing Chuck a comb from the dresser, which was near the door. 

Chuck caught it and combed out his hair. Thanks to the months of physical therapy, Raleigh had seen him naked, so Chuck didn’t think twice about changing in front of him. “We going out or staying in?”

Raleigh grinned. “Staying in. Did you ever wish you could walk around a Shatterdome naked?”

“Tried once in Manila. Dad was so pissed, but I found out later that he made fifty bucks off my naked ass – someone bet him that I wouldn’t embarrass him in public like that.” Chuck laughed. “Almost threw us out of the Drift when I caught that. Can you hand me a shirt? So did you ever try?”

“Yancy did it. I dared him to,” Raleigh admitted, handing Chuck a clean shirt from the dresser. “He nearly froze – we were stationed in Anchorage and someone had left the jaeger bay doors open. Man, he kicked my ass in the kwoon for that stunt, but he was laughing when he did it. I was always trying to get him to laugh; he was the serious one.” Without asking, Raleigh reached into another drawer and handed Chuck a fresh pair of sweatpants, the ones with the draw cords.

It hit Chuck then that Raleigh knew exactly what his preferences in clothing were and where to find said items in Chuck’s room. In the months since Chuck had woken up from near-death, Raleigh had never treated him with pity, never made it seem like what he was doing was anything other than what he’d do for a fellow jaeger pilot who’d been injured in combat. Abruptly uncomfortable, Chuck demanded, “What the fuck are you doing, Raleigh? Because this sure as hell quit being pity a while back.”

Raleigh shook his head, a half-smile tugging on his lips. “So it did. Got a problem with that?”

Caught again, Chuck could only stare. “No,” he admitted. “Just…” He sighed, abruptly aware that he was uncomfortable and lashing out because of it. “You’re the last person I expected to be my friend.”

Raleigh laughed. “You’re not the same guy you were before we went up against Leatherback and Otachi. You still have your moments, but you’re getting better. You up for movies after dinner? Tendo said he uploaded a new batch to the server, some old stuff that was on the Lima ‘dome’s server.”

Chuck groaned as he finished dressing. “I am not listening to the computer translation of some cheesy Brazilian sci-fi. Whoever programmed that voice had way too much fun making the computer sound sardonic.”

“Want to bet?” Raleigh smirked, and somehow, Chuck knew he was going to regret taking it.


	10. Chapter 10

Across town, Herc stood, oddly nervous, in the hallway as Jamie put his daughter to bed. “She should sleep for a while,” Jamie declared, shutting off the light to the nursery. “Now, where were we?” Jamie smiled and stepped closer to kiss Herc.

Herc indulged in the kiss, loving the way Jamie opened to him. The nervousness he’d felt while waiting for Jamie faded instantly. Already familiar with the layout of Jamie’s apartment, Herc maneuvered them into the master bedroom, pausing only to turn on the lights. The king-size bed filled the length of room, with only a body width between the foot of the bed and the closet door, and two body widths between it and the door. Herc had commented on that the first time he’d seen it, but tonight, he was grateful for the lack of space.

Stripping out of his clothes with the expediency learned as a RAAF pilot, Herc sat down on the bed to watch Jamie finish undressing. The sheer expanse of Jamie’s untattooed skin fascinated Herc, especially since Jamie had no chest hair, unlike Herc, who felt like a veritable bear by comparison. Jamie stepped into the space Herc made for him and kissed him, hands already tracing a path down Herc’s chest. Herc felt even more naked without his dog tags, but Jamie had told him to remove them. (“When you’re naked with me, you’re naked with me. Nobody else can claim you.”) 

Herc loved that Jamie loved to kiss. Nobody since Angela had wanted to spend the time, and Herc had missed it. Pulling Jamie with him, Herc positioned them so that Jamie was on top and Herc’s back was on the bed. He wanted to linger, but Jamie had been teasing him all day, and Herc knew his control was shot. The first time was going to be fast and messy for both of them. As long as he was at work at 0700, he had plenty of time, and Herc intended to make the most of it. Jamie had quickly become someone he needed and wanted in his life. 

Lying in Jamie’s bed in the wake of their shared release, Herc let Jamie cuddle him.

“You’re a million miles away, Herc,” Jamie noted. “What’s on your mind?”

“Been meaning to ask you this, but it’s slipped my mind the last few times we were together. What did Chuck threaten you with?”

Jamie laughed. “I’m not intimidated,” he countered. “He’s protective of you; I get it. I just don’t quite understand why.”

Herc hesitated before answering. “Mostly it’s because he’s seen me have really bad relationships. I never learned how to hide everything in the Drift, so Chuck’s known some things about me that I could never say aloud. It’s made him extremely protective of me, at least with other people. Last guy I dated was a jerk who made a pass at Chuck, too.”

Jamie groaned. “Seriously? Ew.” Jamie paused before asking, “Is your son comfortable with you dating someone else?”

Herc sighed. “Before we closed the Breach, he thought I was wasting my time with the effort. Thought that I should be more focused on being a better pilot, a better second-in-command to the marshal, but he didn’t understand I couldn’t throw myself into work that way. He could because he was young enough that nobody expected him to succeed at it. Now…now, I’m not sure. He’s been a little squirrely lately.” Herc smiled resignedly. “Everything’s two steps forward, three steps back with him sometimes. Only place I’ve ever known where his head’s at has been in the conn-pod.”

Jamie leaned up and kissed Herc. “You raised an amazing man, in difficult circumstances. Quit beating yourself up over it. Chuck will adjust or he won’t. I’m not going to let it affect us.”

Herc smiled. “I’ll try.” He paused and shifted them so they lay side by side. “I love you, Jamie Maloney.”

Jamie kissed him, and the kiss quickly turned heated. Herc bit back the flare of disappointment that his words of love hadn't been instantly returned, and focused on giving Jamie the loving he wanted. They'd only been together less than six weeks; Herc just had to be patient and give Jamie time.


	11. Chapter 11

Chuck’s alarm went off promptly at 0600, and Chuck lay there, feeling ancient and broken. After insisting that yes, Chuck really did need to see a cheesy ‘80s film about two struggling students with a time machine, Raleigh had left his room around 0200. From the gossip around the ‘dome, Chuck knew the older man could function on less than five hours of sleep. Chuck had learned how, as well, but he’d come to realize that in the wake of his near-death, he couldn’t do it anymore. His body simply demanded more sleep. It didn’t help that Raleigh had been in a mood to play drinking games; Chuck’s head pounded with a hangover. As he lay there, hating Raleigh for his alcohol tolerance, an incoming message started buzzing, as insistent as any phone call. 

“Answer, damn it,” Chuck said, grateful that his room had been configured so he didn’t have to actually press ‘answer’ on the vidscreen mounted on the wall across from his bed.

“Incoming message from Ranger Raleigh Becket. What would you like me to do with it?” the computer intoned in her oddly nuanced voice.

“Read, please.” Chuck didn’t want to make the effort to roll over so he could see the screen.

“Reading incoming message. ‘Sleep in. I’ll make your excuses, but you’ll need to be in the main conference room at 1030 – we have the PDTV interview. I took Max with me so he wouldn’t wake you. P.S. Ian is too cute.’ Attachment to message on screen. Would you like me to describe this photograph?” The computer voice made Raleigh’s words sound odd, but Chuck appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“No, thanks.” Chuck inhaled, then rolled himself over so he could see the displayed photo, which was, as Chuck had half-expected, of him sleeping with the dogs.

Chuck groaned, suddenly certain Raleigh would be showing it to Herc. Ian nosed him, trying to get Chuck to get up, and Chuck sighed. “Not today, Ian. Computer, reset alarm to 0900.” 

The extra sleep, along with a shower and a dose of painkillers, had done him wonders. He dressed in what had become his duty uniform – a PPDC-issue olive-gray henley, the Striker Eureka vest he’d grown up wearing, black cargo pants, and non-skid dress loafers. He’d had to give up wearing the signature Striker Eureka boots; the lower half of his body from his hips downward had been smashed by the escape pod, and the boots were simply too much effort. After a second’s hesitation, he traded the vest and henley for what had become known as “Class C's” – a dark navy blazer with the PPDC insignia and a white dress shirt, worn with either black cargo pants or matching navy dress slacks. He added his rank insignia to the lapels of the blazer, feeling the same surge of pride he always did when he wore his rank. All jaeger pilots went through media training, including what to wear at different events. It had become habit to wear the Striker Eureka vest, a gray knit shirt, and cargo pants, but something told Chuck that he needed to wear something a little more business-like. 

Chuck had long ago learned that projecting the right image mattered, and knew that Herc would be wearing his Class A’s; Herc knew people expected the Marshal to look sharp, especially since Stacker had set the standard for it. Even as they’d become the Resistance, Stacker had refused to wear less than the Class Cs, clearly believing that what a man wore reflected his professionalism. Chuck hadn’t cared about anything other than looking like a badass jaeger pilot, the best of the best – but he was never going to pilot a jaeger again. The least he could do was dress like the changed man he was – not the stupid kid who’d been trying to prove he was the better jaeger pilot than his father. He needed to be the jaeger pilot-turned-project coordinator for the second biggest project he’d ever taken on in his life – a little more grown-up, a little more polished, less about mascots and identifying with his jaeger, just in case anyone forgot which jaeger he piloted. He’d never admit it aloud, but Drifting with Stacker had shown him just what the mind of a great jaeger pilot and a better man looked like – and he wanted to honor the sacrifice Stacker had made by living up to that ideal.

Chuck had a stash of power bars in his desk, so he ate one, brushed his teeth, and made his way to his office to pick up the tablet he used to take notes and read the briefing on who would be interviewing them, what to expect from the interviewers, and look at his schedule for the day. He had half an hour before he was needed in the conference room.

“I brought you some tea,” the middle-aged Asian woman who served as the executive assistant for the engineering department said, stepping into his office and setting the lidded cup down on his desk.

Chuck smiled. “Thank you, Benjawan. Anything I should know?” he asked as he took a sip. He was not surprised to find it lightly sweetened and at a drinkable temperature; Benjawan was just that good at her job.

“You’ve met this interviewer before,” Benjawan said, “and I think she expects you to be the same Chuck Hansen you were then. Grégoire requested that you be careful.” She eyed Chuck. “Have you eaten anything?”

“I had a power bar, but can you arrange to have a lunch tray delivered after the interview? I think I go right from that interview into a meeting with the project team.”

Benjawan nodded. “Already set up. I wasn’t sure you’d have time otherwise, especially since you’ll want to walk Ian.”

“Thank you, Benjawan.” The woman exited the office. Chuck took a deep breath and downed the rest of his tea as his father stepped in.

As Chuck had expected, Herc had dressed in the crisp, navy blue full dress uniform, his marshal rank evident. For years, the PPDC had been pressuring Herc to take more of a command role, to step out of a jaeger and let someone younger in the cockpit. It was only Herc’s insistence that nobody else could drift with his son that had kept him from being forced out. It had meant that he’d burned a lot of midnight oil, trying to juggle being an active jaeger pilot and Stacker’s second in command. It had only been a matter of time before Herc couldn’t pilot anymore. Chuck had thought if Herc would just admit he needed to step down, he’d get a better copilot. Stepping into Striker that last time, without his father to ground him, had made Chuck realize just how wrong he’d been. Herc could Drift with anyone; Chuck had barely managed to Drift with someone other than his father.

“Oh, good,” Herc said. “Raleigh said he reminded you of the interview. You ready to head out?”

Chuck nodded. He’d chosen to stand rather than sit; his desk was configured so he had the choice of sitting or standing, so it was a simple matter of stepping away from the desk, hand on Ian’s handle.

Both men were silent as they moved down the hallway. Annoyingly, Chuck found himself trying to match his father’s stride, their Drift compatibility snapping into place as it tended to do when they weren’t fighting with each other. “Slow down, old man,” Chuck said. “I can’t walk like you anymore.”

“Sorry,” Herc said, and shortened his stride. “You got a problem with Jamie? You were bristling at him yesterday at breakfast. Again.”

“Wanted to see how he’d react,” Chuck said evenly, not regretting he’d done it. “You don’t always see past pretty, and you’ve dated people who wanted to impress me the first time they met me. I wanted to see how he’d do the second time around.”

Herc glared at his son, though without heat. “I told you before, Jamie’s not like the others.”

“What happened to Rachel’s mother?”

“She wanted a dress up doll, not a living person,” Herc said. “Jamie told me that he’d find her dressed up in lace gowns and absolutely starving, so he got mad at Rachel’s mother, who was his girlfriend at the time. Guess they got into it one day and Rachel’s mother stormed off. When she came back, she dumped Rachel in Jamie’s arms, said if he wanted a baby so bad he could have it, and left for good. He’s been dealing ever since.”

“That’s cold.” Chuck thought he’d had it bad, but he couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d tell a kid that ‘sorry, mommy didn’t want you.’ “So how old is she now?”

“Almost eight months old.” Herc eyed his son. “You’ve never taken an interest in babies before.”

“You’ve never dated a guy with one,” Chuck returned as they neared the main conference room. Somehow, Chuck didn’t have it in him to razz his father further, and he ignored Herc, who looked at him as though he feared what Chuck might be planning.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, Chuck, just leave Rachel out of it. She doesn’t deserve to be mistreated,” Herc growled.

Unwilling to say anything further, Chuck kept silent. Jamie wasn’t like the other men Herc had been with, nor was he the first person Herc had tried to date since Angela’s death. 

“You understand me?”

“I heard you the first time,” Chuck growled. He’d decided he liked Jamie, who could hold his own in conversation, and who clearly seemed to care about Herc. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt Rachel. I’m just making sure you don’t lose your head over this guy.”

Herc started to speak, but before he could, Isabel, the executive assistant for the communications team, stepped out at the sound of their footsteps on the hardwood floor.

“The journalist and her cameraman are here early,” Isabel warned them. “They wanted to set up and test camera angles.” 

“It’s the same conference room as always,” Chuck objected.

Isabel rolled her eyes. “I know that, you know that, they know that, but they still do it anyway.”

Grabbing a stepstool from a nearby credenza, she warned them, “Hold still,” and then quickly dusted their faces with makeup so they didn’t look so pale on camera. Chuck fought the urge to sneeze at the powder foundation, but Ian barked, expressing his displeasure at the unaccustomed smell and dust.

“Sorry, Ian,” Isabel apologized. “I’ll warn you next time.” She then studied her handiwork. Moving the stepstool over to Herc, she pulled a folding lint brush out of her blazer pockets, brushed off his lapels, climbed down, then did the same to Chuck’s. “Try not to get pissed off,” she suggested to Chuck. “Raleigh and Grégoire have been babysitting them.”

“Thanks, Isabel,” Herc interjected. “Dismissed.”

“Marshal,” Isabel said with a slight inclination of her head before turning and heading in the direction of the administrative warren.

Chuck chanced a look at his father, and decided not to say anything. Herc opened the door to let Chuck and Ian into the room, then followed them inside.

The journalist had the same stereotypical ‘international correspondent’ look to her Chuck had come to expect; he had a vague memory of her interviewing them after their fourth kaiju kill. Her male cameraman was equally generic, but his “Mierda, eso es un perro de servicio?!” wasn’t.

Chuck fought back a grin as Raleigh did the same. “His name is Ian,” Chuck said. 

“Hello,” the journalist said. “My name is Daisy Thompson, and that’s Jose, my cameraman. I’m told Ian is a mixed breed dog?”

“Yes, he’s a rescue from right here in New South Wales, trained to be a service dog by the Eleventh Hour Service Dog Foundation,” Chuck said as he took a seat at the end of the row of chairs. The conference room had been arranged so that three chairs faced the camera, with the journalist’s chair positioned across from them. Grégoire had a seat off to the right, out of camera range; he would audit the interview to make sure nothing amiss happened. 

Herc sat down at the other end of the row, with Raleigh between them as the cameraman pinned wireless microphones on their collars, and Chuck glanced at Raleigh. Raleigh looked as he always did, tired but still functional, and Chuck wondered if he’d actually slept. 

“As many already know, the Pan Pacific Defense Corps has been busy with engineering and research efforts focused on reconstruction and the application of K-science to civilian applications. Here with me today to answer some questions are some familiar faces – Marshal Herc Hansen and Rangers Raleigh Becket and Chuck Hansen. I understand that the Pan Pacific Defense Corps is getting ready to release a smaller jaeger. Marshal Hansen, what can you tell us about this so-called C-Series jaeger?”

Herc smiled. “The C-series is designed for a single pilot, and at max height, will be no more than 30 meters, or less than half the height of the jaegers we used to fight the kaiju. Beyond that size, you get into the need for a dual pilot control. Given what we’ve learned about pilot-to-pilot connections, we felt that a single pilot version would be cheaper to build, easier to train, and more maneuverable for the types of applications in which we’d like to see them being used.” 

“And what would those applications be?”

“Cleaning up waste and debris in restricted zones,” Chuck interjected. “Assisting with reconstruction.” He smiled thinly, aware that they were contracted with the Australian government to tear down the proven-useless anti-kaiju wall using the C-series jaegers. He wasn’t allowed to say that, though, not yet.

“I see. Do you have any plans to pilot one of those jaegers?” Daisy asked, looking directly at Chuck.

Chuck laughed. Better people than her had baited him with far less. “It would be like learning to drive a ute with hand controls. We haven’t designed a model yet for someone whose legs are as busted as mine. Besides, there’d be no room for my service dog, and I can’t leave him behind. He’s my copilot now.”

“What about you, Mr. Becket?” Daisy asked.

Raleigh shook his head. “We have test pilots for that. My brain’s too wired to expect a second pilot in the Drift, even if I have operated a jaeger solo. Our testing shows that a pilot who’s never drifted with anyone before is more able to handle the C-jaeger.”

“Isn’t the neural load too much for one person?”

“It is when it’s a jaeger built to fight a Category III kaiju, back when we thought Category III was the largest they could possibly get,” Herc replied. “The C-series are deliberately scaled down, and in some ways, they’re more maneuverable. We can get some fine mechanical control that we didn’t have with their bigger cousins. That can make a difference in how waste is picked up and handled, for example.”

They spent some more time on technical questions before Daisy turned the interview into the expected “and what are you doing now” segment. “Mr. Becket, you told me earlier that you’re the ‘jack of all trades’ in this new PPDC organization. What does that mean?”

“Means what you think,” Raleigh said easily. “I help where I’m needed. I’m trying to learn new skills, because what I’m good at is piloting a giant jaeger and building walls.” He grinned. “As we both know, nobody needs those anymore. It feels good to still be working with some of the same people.”

“You were officially reinstated as a jaeger pilot in the wake of the success of Operation Pitfall. Are you still an active Ranger?”

“Yes, ma’am, we all are,” Raleigh said with finality. The political machinations had meant that all of them had to sign new contracts stating they’d serve the PPDC for the next decade lest they be blamed as individuals for the damage incurred fighting to save the world, among other non-niceties. Chuck didn’t mind it – he couldn’t imagine working anywhere else – but he knew that in Raleigh’s case, the US had insisted on adding a clause in his contract that turned him into a special operative, subject to a lifetime recall.

“Does that mean that the UN anticipates a need for more jaeger pilots like you?”

Raleigh shook his head. “All our data indicates that Operation Pitfall was a total success. However, I like to think of us as being on reserve, just in case the worst happens.”

Daisy looked at Chuck next. “Mr. Hansen, you were a strong opponent of shutting down the jaeger program,” she noted. “How has your opinion changed?”

“We won,” Chuck said simply. “And there’s that whole part where I nearly died in an escape pod built by the lowest bidder.” He smiled, a wolf’s smile, and the look on Daisy’s face when she realized she might be dealing with the same bluntly truthful Chuck Hansen was worth every minute of this damned interview. “So I’m in favor of using what we learned so we don’t fuck it up again, this time on a smaller scale. It’s nice to be able to have that kind of input into the process.”

“How goes your personal recovery?” Daisy tactfully transitioned. 

“I’m as healed as I’m gonna get,” Chuck said bluntly. “But I still have hopes of beating Raleigh’s time around the ‘dome in a run.”

Raleigh grinned at him, and the wicked look in his eyes told Chuck he was going to have a hard time on his next attempt. Raleigh turned to Daisy. “Once a competitor, always a competitor.”

“How do you feel about that, Marshal?”

Herc shrugged, grinning. “Means he’s still Chuck. They tried to tell me if he woke up, he might not remember his name, let alone scheme to beat Mr. Becket here at anything.”

“Is there any truth, Marshal Hansen, to the rumors that you’re seeing singer-songwriter Jamie Maloney?”

Grégoire stepped in. “I’m sorry, but that line of questioning is not allowed. Please stick to the agreed-upon list.” 

Daisy’s eyes flashed, clearly irritated; she’d wanted that scoop.

Herc shot Grégoire a grateful look while Chuck tried to hide his relief; Herc had never enjoyed answering that kind of personal question, especially after acknowledging their relationship had made one of Herc’s lovers run off, never to be seen again. Raleigh looked annoyed as well.

Sensing the interview was over, Daisy quickly wrapped it up. “Is there anything you’d like to say to the public about the new C-series jaeger program and the K-science outreach efforts?”

Herc rattled off the party line, and then they were free to go. Herc stayed behind to answer some clarification questions, so Raleigh walked back with Chuck and Ian to Chuck’s office, pausing at a bathroom along the way to scrub off the makeup they’d worn.

“Something you need, Raleigh?” Chuck asked, aware that the older man could’ve gone back to his office via a shorter route than the one that passed Chuck’s office.

Raleigh grinned. “Just wanted to say you look good in Class C's. You surprised the Marshal, showing up in those.”

“So how much did you win off the old man?”

Raleigh’s grin widened. “I’m not at liberty to say.” Raleigh paused. “Have you met Jamie yet?”

Chuck nodded. “Twice now. Jamie has some steel behind him – no surprise, you’d have to be a pretty tough to grow up on a sailboat and not get eaten alive by the press when you get to be famous.” 

“You like him,” Raleigh said with some astonishment.

“Yeah,” Chuck agreed. “What? I can’t like a guy my dad’s dating?”

“Way you were acting a few weeks ago, I’d have thought you’d have preferred Herc to remain single forever.”

“Like you didn’t want to kick your brother’s ass for dating idiots,” Chuck drawled.

Raleigh laughed. “No, that was usually Yancy’s job.” He sobered a moment and studied Chuck. Unconsciously, Chuck straightened his posture and gripped Ian’s handle tighter. “You’re okay with it?”

“I’ll still kick his ass if he hurts Dad.”

Raleigh grinned and gripped Chuck’s shoulder briefly. “I’ll help. I haven’t seen Herc this happy since we peeled you out of that escape pod.”


	12. Chapter 12

Two weeks later, Herc fought the urge to explode at the UN auditor sent to review the proposed budget for the coming year. She was being unnecessarily meticulous. He was grateful that the PPDC controller was an engineer-turned-accountant; it meant that Herc could just let Amin do the majority of explanations. Still, Herc’s mind wandered, wondering what Jamie was doing. Thanks to the crazy schedule of the audit and some construction delays, Herc hadn’t been able to see his lover. Jamie had to attend an awards show, and he’d wanted to go with him, but the timing hadn’t worked out. Videocalls just weren’t cutting it, especially since Jamie’s connection was so crappy they often resorted to just old fashioned phone calls. 

Glancing at his watch, Herc realized they’d been going through this inane line-by-line budget review for three days now, and if he sat here any longer, he was going to blow up at someone.

“Excuse me, Ms. d’Alton?” Herc interrupted.

The petite Frenchwoman looked up from her perusal of the electronic spreadsheet projected on the table in front of her. “Yes, Marshal?”

“Do you really need me here? I mean, really. If there’s something Amin can’t explain, you can make a list of what you need to ask me, and I’ll get back to you.”

Ms. d’Alton frowned, and Herc was convinced the woman had never found a reason to smile.

“Protocol requires you be present at this meeting,” she reminded him prissily.

Herc sighed, and waited until she’d gotten absorbed in the data again before he reached for his tablet and tapped out a message to his son.

_Get me the fuck out of here now._

Ten minutes later, Stefanie, his executive assistant knocked on the door. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Marshal, there’s been a problem with one of the new jaegers.”

Thank God, Herc thought. “Amin, would you please make sure that Ms. d’Alton gets what she needs? You have my authority in this regard.”

As if those had been the magic words, the Frenchwoman blinked. “If you’re delegating the decision, Form 336B must be filled out prior –”

Amin took control. “Ms. d’Alton, I am the controller for the PPDC. If I didn’t have the authority to act in the Marshal’s stead in financial matters, I wouldn’t be able to do my job. Marshal, I’ll take this from here. If you’d done your homework, Ms. d’Alton, you’ll see that Form 336B and Attachment 109C are on record, along with every other piece of documentation you need to show that I’m not the terrorist you think I am, but a responsible, trusted executive officer of this organization.”

Herc quickly made his exit while Amin continued to lay into the prissy, bigoted woman. Stefanie grinned as Herc met her out in the hall. A few feet away from the door, out of earshot, Herc turned to Stefanie. “Is there really a problem with the new jaegers? I thought we fixed that damned wiring issue.”

Stefanie shook her head. “No, Marshal. Mr. Hansen suggested I use that as an excuse. He did say that you were more than welcome to join in him in Bay 5.”

Bay 5, Herc knew, was the bay they’d used to launch Striker Eureka. It was the largest of the jaeger bays, and the one with the best view of the ocean. Nothing was currently being stored there, by tacit agreement. “If anyone’s looking for me, I’m in a meeting.”

Stefanie nodded. “Of course, Marshal. I’ll have Mr. Choi field your calls if anything arises. If I don’t see you the rest of the afternoon, enjoy your weekend.” She didn’t wait to be dismissed, but turned crisply and headed in the direction of the executive suite of offices.

Feeling like a kid sneaking out of class, Herc headed for Bay 5. He found his son waiting for him, braced against the edge of the bay doors, which had been thrown open.

“Took you long enough,” Chuck groused, but there was no real heat in the words. Herc realized abruptly that he hadn’t talked to Chuck since the interview; both had eaten meals at different times during the day.

“Aren’t you supposed to be talking to some VIPs?” Herc wondered.

“They left an hour ago. All I was doing was staring at email and feeling you get more annoyed with each passing minute.” Chuck studied him. “Want to go blow off some steam in the kwoon?”

Herc shook his head. Chuck was getting better at compensating for his balance issues and damage, but he’d never be the skilled brawler he’d been, never be back to the smooth dance he’d once been able to perform with Herc. Given how Herc was feeling, he was certain that sparring with Chuck in the kwoon would just add to his impatience and frustration, not vent it.

Staring out at the ocean, he was reminded again of why he’d fought so hard to get to this point. “Just…we were a united world for a hell of a lot longer than I imagined we could be. And now I’m stuck in meetings with a bigoted bitch who acts like requesting funds a tenth of the cost of Striker is asking for too much.” Herc blew out a breath. “I never wanted to be in charge of this damned thing. That was Stacker’s forte.”

Chuck said nothing for a moment. “Do you want to give it up?”

“And do what? Sit idly by and watch someone else fuck up everything we’ve achieved?”

Chuck laughed. “Face it, old man, you made your bed, and you like it.”

“Yeah, but – I never asked you if you wanted to be doing this shit with me. I just thought you wanted something to do while you got healed up.”

Chuck shot Herc an irritated look. “Spare me the lecture on how I should be doing something else with my life now that I’m almost as old as you were when I was born. This is where the future of robotics engineering and oceanographic research is being developed. The next generation of jaeger pilots won’t be in the giants we drove; they’ll be in the C-jaegers. You think I want to be anywhere else?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t,” Chuck said fiercely. “This is home.”

Herc looked at his son. “You don’t miss being out there?” He gestured to the ocean.

Chuck half-laughed. “Like you miss being in the sky. Come on, old man, you know if I had better legs, I’d be trying to pilot one of the C-jaegers.”

“We could make that happen.”

Chuck shook his head. “I’m still getting the hang of driving again. There’s something wrong about driving a ute like I’m in a simulator.”

“I heard about your speeding ticket last weekend.”

“Surprised you noticed,” Chuck shot back. “Every time I tried to check on you, you had your phone stuck to your ear, talking to Jamie.”

Herc looked at his son, not sure if he trusted the tone of Chuck’s voice. “You’ll always be my son, Chuck.”

“Thought you wanted a jaeger pilot,” Chuck teased him, and Herc’s eyes widened.

For a moment, father and son stared at each other. Herc tensed, sure that Chuck was once again back to his old, put-down-Herc ways. “I didn’t know how else to raise you,” Herc began the familiar argument.

To his surprise, his son started chuckling. “If you’d left me behind like Uncle Scott wanted you to, you’d still have been someone I wanted to beat. I’d still have been the kid rattling off jaeger stats, wanting for the chance to climb in the conn pod.”

Herc narrowed his eyes. Though the words weren’t different from what Herc knew from their Drift, it still sounded odd to hear them aloud. “All right, who are you and where’s my son?”

Chuck laughed. “Right here, Dad.” He paused. “You seem pretty serious about this guy Jamie.”

“Yeah,” Herc allowed. “He's a good man.”

Chuck said nothing for a moment. “Been a while since you were with a guy.”

“That a problem?” Herc asked warily.

“No,” Chuck shot back. “You know I can't judge you like that, not after being in your head. Just…you haven’t been around, lately.”

Herc sighed. For all the tempering the near-death experience had given Chuck, there were still moments where Herc was vividly aware that Chuck had issues. “You know it’s been a crazy few weeks; it’s only going to get crazier. You busy tomorrow afternoon?”

Chuck tried to hide his relief, but Herc felt it. “You know where to find me.” He paused again, then asked, “Have you told Jamie how you feel about him yet?”

“Yes.” Herc waited for an explosion that never came. In the silence that fell, Herc looked at his son. “You don’t…seem all that surprised.”

“You proposed to Mom six days after you met her. I remember how you fell for that reporter when I was twelve. He really, really loved you, but he hated me, just because I was the ‘unnecessary attachment.’”

Herc barked a laugh at that. “I can’t believe you remember that jerk.”

“He had to interview me when I was eighteen for that magazine, so yeah, I remember him.” Chuck grinned wolfishly. “I decked him on principle when we were done. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t felt you being relaxed and happy – your shielding sucks, old man.”

Herc shook his head at that, but he couldn’t bring himself to object. Alexi had been a righteous jerk, but he’d been good in bed, and the first male lover Herc had had since high school. “I hope I haven’t been neglecting –”

“Don’t start with that, Dad. Please. I’m old enough to entertain myself, in case you forgot. I just…” Chuck breathed out and said nothing for a moment before he finished with, “Like I told you before I stepped into Striker that last time, I’ve always known everything you’ve never said aloud. I had the Drift. What I didn’t have,” and Chuck swallowed and straightened his shoulders, “what I didn’t have was where we’d go from there. You gave me this job of being the engineering liaison and it was a whole new way of connecting with you. I couldn’t expect you to know what was in my head, so I had to actually learn to communicate, to expect that you were busy and needed me to stand up and be the guy you thought I was. The time we spent outside of work started to mean a lot to me. You weren’t looking at me like I disappointed you for not being a better man. We were just father and son. I don’t want to lose that, Dad.”

Herc studied his son, seeing the genuine emotion. “I don’t think we will,” he said gently. “Even if we never Drift again, Chuck, I’ll still want to spend time with you. Hell, I wanted to spend time with you when you were being an egotistical asshole, what the hell does that say about me?”

Chuck chuckled ruefully. “That no matter what, I was still your son? Got one question, though. Do you think Jamie’ll stick around? He’s got a daughter to raise and enough success he doesn’t need anyone.”

“That’s part of what I love about him,” Herc admitted. “Jamie wants to be with me. I just wish…”

“What?”

Herc shook himself. “Wish I could see him perform again. I’ve heard him sing, and he has a beautiful voice. He’s afraid of heights, and he refuses to perform on a stage again. He sang ‘Fighting Machine,’ Chuck.”

Chuck stared. “‘I’m half of a fighting machine, trained and ready to win/I'll do everything that I can,’ that song?”

“You didn’t check his website out?”

“I did, but somehow the song titles didn’t register for me and I didn’t look past his bio.”

“The part that’s not in his bio? He grew up on a boat with a guy who wasn’t his father and an ex-con as second mate. He could live like a king and he refuses to; claims he doesn’t feel right. I have no clue what he sees in me, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Any chance he’ll get up and perform again?”

“He got attacked by a fan on stage. Broke his arm, left him with a scar above his right eyebrow, and completely rendered him unable to perform on stage. Jamie claims he doesn’t remember half his own songs anymore.”

Chuck growled. “I hope that ‘fan’ got kicked in the ass.”

“Arrested, charged with assault, and given a short sentence. It wasn’t enough.” Herc shared a look with his son. 

“Thinking about a white picket fence again, Dad?”

“Maybe,” Herc said, surprising himself. “How’d you feel about Rachel as your little sister?”

Chuck studied him. “I don’t know. Is that why you’ve been a bear all week, thinking about proposing?”

Herc shifted restlessly. “I don’t know. I used to think words were overrated, but without the Drift…it’s a lot harder to know how someone feels.”

“Want me to kick his ass for you? Make sure he understands he needs to step up?”

Herc laughed. “No, it’ll be fine, Chuck. I don’t…I don’t want to mess this up by rushing. Your mother and me, well…you know.”

With a sigh, Chuck said, “Yeah, you really didn’t know each other that well, and every time you came back home, it was like falling in love all over again.” Finding that out via the Drift had pissed off Chuck, who’d been imagining a grand love affair to last the ages. “It's just…every time you’ve fallen for a guy, you’ve gotten hurt.”

“Part of the price of falling in love, son. You should try it sometime. You might make someone really happy.”

“Sorry, Dad, but it’s become a habit. No girlfriends, no boyfriends, no regrets. Besides, who wants a guy as broken as me?”

“You’d be surprised,” Herc noted dryly and shook his head.

“Sorry, Dad, but you’ve shown me the kinds of people I shouldn’t date,” Chuck shot back. “I’ve a lifetime of reasons to be gun-shy, and that’s all of your reasons, not mine.”

Chuckling ruefully, Herc said nothing. 

For several minutes, both men stared out at the ocean before Chuck stepped closer and clasped Herc’s shoulder briefly. “Feel better? You were looking pissed off when you walked in here.” He gestured to the expanse of ocean and sky. “Figured you’d appreciate seeing this.”

Herc took a moment to breathe it in. “Yeah.” He glanced at his watch; still too early to call it a day.

“Stefanie and Tendo are covering for you this afternoon if you wanted to take off, go somewhere.”

Startled, Herc looked at his son. “Want to come along?”

Chuck shook his head. “Movie night with Raleigh and Mako over at Tendo’s house; he wants to see us quote somewhere other than the damned ‘dome, boys and girl, don’t they let you out anymore? unquote. Don’t let me stop you if you want to get out of here.”

Herc considered his options. There’d been a minor emergency with one of the new jaegers, the week-long audit, a parade of interviews in preparation for all the holiday issues for the magazines, more politicking and bureaucracy, and he realized abruptly he’d been running on little sleep and a lot of stress. Suddenly, sleep sounded absolutely wonderful. A nap wouldn’t hurt him and he could go see Jamie later. 

“Where were you thinking of going?” Chuck asked.

“My room, actually,” Herc admitted. “Kinda tired. See you at dinner?”

Chuck nodded. “See you then.”

Herc smiled, clasped his son’s shoulder, and then headed down the hallway that connected the jaeger launch bays with the living quarters. It was a few strides before he heard the distinctive sound of the bay doors closing.


	13. Chapter 13

“Do you celebrate Christmas?” Jamie asked Herc later that evening as they sat in Jamie’s living room, idly watching TV.

“Somewhat,” Herc replied. “The PPDC has an official annual holiday celebration on the third Friday of December that’s meant to cover the bases, but Chuck hasn’t wanted to celebrate Christmas since he was fourteen. Claimed that since he was old enough to enter the Jaeger Academy, he was old enough to stop pretending Santa existed. I told him we were still exchanging presents because I like the tradition, but we really haven’t gone all out in years.”

Jamie frowned. “Your son is a Scrooge.”

Herc laughed. “He likes to pretend he doesn’t get excited about trying to find the perfect gift, but he does. I’ve had to act like I haven’t seen him helping to decorate the PPDC tree, either.”

“So not a Scrooge as much as…”

“…as a kid who grew up fast and hard, and doesn’t like admitting he has a soft side,” Herc finished. “I take it you’re thinking of going all out this year?”

“I know Rachel won’t remember it, but no matter where we were, Ben always made a point of celebrating Christmas. Val’s the one who got us started on putting lights on the masts.” Jamie smiled, remembering. “They’d have an annual argument over whether ‘Silent Night’ was overrated as a Christmas carol and wind up singing ‘I Saw Three Ships’ together instead.”

Herc studied Jamie. “You miss them.”

Jamie smiled. “They were family.”

“So what kind of ‘all out’ were you thinking?”

“Oh, tree, some decorations, dinner, you and Chuck, if your son’s willing to come.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure he’s here.” 

“Don’t order him, Herc. I’d rather he’s here willingly.”

Jamie reached for Herc, catching his hand as if to physically stop him.

Herc smiled and kissed Jamie's hand before letting go. “Chuck likes you, Jamie. Said as much to me earlier today.”

Jamie blinked, surprised. “Well, that’s a relief to know. I was beginning to wonder if he’d ever let up.”

Herc chuckled. “What happened to you not worrying what my son thinks?”

Jamie shot Herc a wry look. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to worry about it; I just said I wasn’t going to let it affect what I do with you.”

“Splitting hairs, Jamie my love,” Herc pointed out.

Jamie grinned and stole a kiss. “So, to the part of the holidays I don’t like: planning what’s going on in our lives between now and then. I have an industry party Peter insists I have to attend next week, and the Yule Ball for the Rainbow Alliance. I’ve attended that one by myself before, so if you can’t –”

“You know I’m not ashamed to be seen with you,” Herc said, annoyed.

“It’s not that,” Jamie explained. “It’s the gayest, most drag-queen, most flamboyantly out-there, over-the-top LGBTQ event of the year – and even I as someone who’s been out and open for years finds it overwhelming. I’m expected to attend for the sheer virtue of the fact that I’m a huge supporter of the organization. Your PPDC publicity department may not want you to – it’s been seen as extremely polarizing. Aside from that, sometimes people are less than discreet in their affections and I've felt uncomfortable at various points.”

Herc narrowed his eyes. “Email me the details and we’ll see. For that matter, shoot me your schedule and we can sit down and compare. Right now, I have better things we can be doing.” He leaned in for a kiss and proceeded to make Jamie forget all about schedules.

As it turned out, Herc had the perfect excuse not to attend the Yule Ball: it was the same night as the PPDC holiday celebration. The first of the C-series jaegers rolled off the assembly line, and everyone was in a festive mood.

Herc was, too, but his happiness was starting to be tinged with a quiet despair. Jamie had yet to return his words of love, though his enthusiasm to be with Herc remained as high as it ever had been. Now, too, Jamie was starting to talk about the new songs he was writing, his creative energy apparently sparked by their relationship. Interspersed with that was how Rachel had bypassed crawling and had gone from scooting to standing and was holding things; it made Herc ache to remember just how many milestones in Chuck’s life he’d missed because he’d been on active duty. Herc made a concerted effort to spend more time with Chuck, only to discover that his son was busy spending his time with Mako and Raleigh (“we’re on a mission to see which places really abide by handicap access laws,” Chuck had joked.)

So Herc did the only thing he could: he spent time with Jamie, and considered at what moment he’d declare the relationship over. Herc assumed that Jamie, as easily as he told his daughter he loved her, would simply tell him how he felt; he didn’t need to ask. If, after five months of dating, Jamie still said nothing, then Herc had to save his heart from further pain and walk away.


	14. Chapter 14

_January_

“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Hansen, this is Stefanie from the Marshal’s Office. I have Mr. Jamie Maloney on the line and the Marshal isn’t taking his calls. Mr. Maloney has requested I try you. Would you like to take his call?”

“Put him through.” Mildly amused at the way Stefanie insisted on formality, Chuck waited for the transfer, then greeted, “What can I do for you, Jamie?”

“Tell me where I've fucked up with Herc so I can fix it,” Jamie pleaded.

Chuck stared at his phone a moment, suddenly grateful it wasn’t a vidcall. He had no idea they were even fighting, though it would explain why Herc had suddenly thrown himself into work the last few weeks. “I don't spend time in his head anymore, so I have no idea what you might’ve done.”

Jamie made a sound of frustration. “You know him better than anyone else. Why would he break up with me?”

“I’m sorry, but if Dad’s told you it’s over, he means it. Best to cut your losses, mate.”

“Chuck, I’m not giving up that easy,” Jamie began, but, not caring to hear any more, Chuck started to disconnect the line, then changed his mind. Jamie had proven he wasn’t Herc’s typical good-time lover; he was someone Chuck could respect. 

“Tell me what happened,” Chuck demanded.

Jamie sighed, sounding heartbroken and confused. “I wish I knew. I thought we’d had a really good Christmas – hell, you saw, you were there. New Year’s was even better – nice hotel, no interruptions, Rachel with the nanny she likes – but ever since then…Herc’s said he’s busy. Two days ago, I get a text message from him saying we’re through and now he won’t take my calls.”

Chuck swore under his breath as he wondered what his father was doing by ending his relationship with Jamie. Christmas had been good – the best Chuck could remember, honestly. Last year’s had been muted by his recovery and by the habits of holidays past, and therefore didn’t count. Jamie had cooked up a storm (and how he’d managed with Rachel being more active, Chuck had no idea). Jamie had decorated his small apartment, managing to stuff a six-foot tree in the living room, and, once he found out that Raleigh and Mako had no plans, invited them to come along with Herc and Chuck. For Chuck, the evening had felt like something out of the days before the kaiju came.

“Did you do anything or say anything to piss Dad off?” Chuck pressed.

“Not that I can think of,” Jamie said.

“Did you meet someone?”

“If I cheated on Herc, do you think I’d be insane enough to call you and ask you why he won’t talk to me?” Jamie challenged, incredulous.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Chuck noted dryly.

“You know I’m better than that.”

Chuck sighed, acknowledging that fact. “I can’t help you, Jamie. If Dad says it’s over, he’s not changing his mind.”

“Thanks anyway.” Sounding disappointed, Jamie disconnected the line.

Chuck glanced at the calendar. The anniversary of the Breach closure was next week, but he doubted that was a reason for his father’s sudden desire to drown himself in work. From everything he’d seen, combined with the Drift-induced emotional bleed-over, Chuck knew his father was deeply in love with Jamie. Given that, Chuck wondered if his father was running scared – not likely, the man had his share of fears, but running away wasn’t his style – or if Jamie had, indeed, done something to warrant Herc calling quits on the relationship.

For that, Chuck needed his father’s perspective. Chuck waited until it was almost dinner time to meet with his father. “I thought you loved Jamie,” Chuck said.

“I don't have time for him anymore.”

Chuck stared at his father, shocked to the core. Herc had always managed to cram 26 hours into a 24-hour day. Chuck had even seen an occasion when they’d been running on two hours’ of sleep in 36 and Herc had still made time for a lover, just because Herc had thought the person mattered. “So that’s it? You’re going to just drop him like a sack of kaiju shit? Jamie’s a good thing – maybe the best thing – to happen to you and you don’t want to make time for him anymore?”

“I don't have to explain myself to you, son.”

“Tell me so I can kick his ass, Dad. You were happy and in love. I don't think I've ever seen you happier. Why are you walking away from him?"

Herc sighed. “He doesn't love me."

“You sure about that? Way he looked at you at Christmas I swear I saw stars in his eyes.”

Herc shot Chuck a disbelieving look. “You saw what he wanted you to see,” Herc said with finality. “You headed to dinner?"

Agreeing, Chuck kept silent about Jamie, though Chuck remained unconvinced. For the last six months, Jaime had become such a fixture in Herc's life Chuck couldn't believe that his father would just walk away. Herc and Jaime had been photographed together at various events and by the paparazzi, who’d swooned over the prospect of one of their favorite military heroes with one of the country’s top celebrities. Chuck had gotten used to meeting Jamie and Rachel for meals; he’d even learned how to feed and diaper Rachel. There’d even been a now-infamous photo of Rachel strapped to Chuck, which had prompted “secret love child” gossip. Chuck _liked_ Jamie, and he’d never really liked any of his dad's lovers before, and certainly not enough to test his physicality by carting the man’s child around. By everything Chuck had seen, Jamie was a solid, dependable man who, for the most part, eschewed his fame and focused on what mattered to him: being a father, writing songs, and giving back to the community. 

Aware that the PPDC had protocols to verify visitors to the marshal, Chuck asked for and received a copy of the security brief on Jamie. The routine profile had been upgraded once the frequency of his visits had been noted, going deeper into his finances and affiliations. All Herc had to do to grant Jamie access to his quarters was to sign off on the authorization – which had, Chuck saw, had been pending since early December. What had Herc been waiting for? Chuck wondered. The profile was clean, indicating that Jamie was exactly who he said he was – and that the only flag on the profile was a recurring payment to a wrongfully-convicted offenders fund. The profile indicated a connection to a Val Kjeldsen, who had been convicted of murder and served seven years. Given what Chuck knew of Jamie’s history, that flag didn’t seem untoward.

On the off-chance that the breakup had something to do with Herc – after all, the doctors had been warning Herc of his imminent neurological instability for years – Chuck abused his authority as his father’s delegated medical contact to check his records. That check indicated that Herc’s last neural scan, taken as part of the routine physical just a few weeks earlier, had been clean. That left something Jamie had done; Herc had always treated his lovers generously, and from what Chuck had seen, that pattern had continued with Jamie. Then Chuck remembered the conversation he’d had with his father during the audit week from hell, and swore. 

Herc loved like he fought – hard and fast. If he’d told Jamie he loved him within weeks of meeting him, Jamie probably hadn’t been inclined to reciprocate; it had been too early. From what Chuck had come to know of Jamie, the singer was not inclined to give his heart away so easily. Jamie was a man who’d sung about love and heartbreak from a place of knowledge – he was going to tread carefully. He’d had his heart broken by his daughter’s mother, for god’s sake. 

Swearing, Chuck grimaced as he plotted just how to fix his father’s latest disaster in his love life. If Jamie wasn’t the man of honor Chuck thought of him to be, then it didn’t matter if Jamie had money, power, and fame of his own. It wasn’t the first time Chuck had taken down someone who’d thought they could trample a Hansen. Like always, Chuck was playing for keeps – he wanted his father to be happy.

“Been looking for you,” Raleigh said, catching up to him the next day as he stood at edge of Bay 5. Then Raleigh stopped, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied Chuck. “Okay, who are you planning to kill?”

Chuck shot him a withering look. “Surprised you haven’t felt the old man's ire yet.”

“Have, considered what day it is, and decided to let it blow over me,” Raleigh shot back. “You okay?”

“What, am I supposed to get all moody because I almost died and the anniversary’s coming up?”

“Well, that would be the normal response, but you’re Chuck Hansen. I figured you’d be trying to beat a punching bag to death. When I didn’t find you in the gym, I got worried.”

Chuck eyed his friend. “Something you wanna tell me, Raleigh?”

Raleigh’s lips twitched in a half-smile. “Dunno. Depends. You ready to hear it?”

“Go flirt with someone actually interested in your ass, because I’m not,” Chuck shot back, and Raleigh laughed. Chuck had a feeling the older man wasn’t so easily dissuaded (Raleigh saw through him so well), but he tabled that as ‘something to deal with later…much later.’ “So besides trying to mess with me, what’s going on?”

“Had to step away from my office – Grégoire is trying to wrestle reporters and he’s starting to lose his temper.”

Chuck raised an eyebrow, aware that the marketing director was one of the most unflappable men he’d ever met. “Why?”

“Some idiot talked to your uncle, wanting his thoughts on the anniversary.”

“He’s broken a gag order then,” Chuck noted. “That bastard is not supposed to talk to reporters. Probably thinks that since Stacker’s dead he can get away with it.”

Raleigh pulled out his phone and quickly texted Grégoire with that information. “Thanks. Figured you’d know something useful – and no, you don’t have to tell me what happened.”

Chuck swore. “He nearly killed his own brother, that’s all you need to know.” Breathing carefully, Chuck forced himself to relax; he’d seen the gory details in the Drift and wanted to kill his uncle for going that far over the edge. 

Raleigh waited patiently, his eyes calm and understanding, and somehow, focusing on him made Chuck’s temper ease faster. Deliberately, Chuck took another cleansing breath, and made himself focus on what mattered to him in the moment – not the past, not anniversaries, but hope for a future. 

“Listen, if you can spare the time, I need your help keeping my father on base Saturday night. If everything goes well, I’ll have Jamie and Rachel with me.”

“Consider it done,” Raleigh said swiftly.


	15. Chapter 15

The last person Jamie expected to see at his apartment was Chuck Hansen. Herc had abruptly cancelled their last date, claiming he had work to do, but then he’d stopped taking calls, making Jamie think he’d done something wrong. It was driving Jamie crazy, and the call he’d had with Chuck earlier in the week hadn’t helped, either.

“Um, hi?” Jamie ventured warily. 

Chuck leaned on his giant dog and smiled. “Yeah, I know I’m the wrong Hansen, but I was thinking the old man might want your company. He’s been a right bear all month. Threw his phone at a wall the other day and hasn’t gotten a replacement yet because he needs to get issued a special high-security one and all the replacements are stuck in Customs.”

“I can’t leave Rachel alone. My nanny’s already gone for the day.”

“Bring her with,” Chuck said easily.

Jamie stared at Chuck, not trusting this sudden friendliness. Though Chuck had been friendlier the last few months, Jamie never forgot that Chuck had reasons to dislike him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because right now I piss him off, and he’s starting to piss off everyone else by being in a bad mood,” Chuck said bluntly. “I’d like to prove him wrong. He thinks I won’t ever do anything nice for him.”

When Jamie continued to stare at him, Chuck made an impatient sound. “Look, if you don't want to do this, I'll just leave. He thinks I just took off for a drive; he doesn’t have to know I stopped by. No skin off my back if you don’t want to spend time with him, especially if you don’t love him.”

“Not love him…” Jamie gasped, horrified. “Why the fuck would Herc think I didn’t?”

Chuck glared at him. “Do you love him or you just in it for a good fuck?”

“Watch your words; that’s your father you’re talking about.” Jamie didn’t like the tone of Chuck’s voice.

“I’ll talk about him whatever way I like, Jamie. I’ve been in his head for five years; I know things about him he won’t ever say.”

“That doesn’t mean you should disrespect him. He raised you under difficult circumstances – hell, I’ve only been a father for a year and I’m not fighting a war.”

Chuck stepped closer, leaning forward and bracing himself on Ian as he did so. “That doesn’t answer my question, mate. Do you love Hercules Hansen?”

“Yes, damn you.”

Satisfied, Chuck leaned back. “He needs to hear the words, mate. He tries to pretend he doesn’t, but he needs them. Maybe more so because he can’t Drift with you.”

Jamie swore. No wonder he’d been given the silent treatment; he hadn’t said what Herc needed to hear, in all the months Herc had been saying it to him. “Give me a few minutes to get Rachel and her stuff together.”

“Might want to pack something for yourself while you’re at it. I don’t run a taxi service.”

Jamie hastily resupplied Rachel’s diaper bag with the things he thought he’d need for a night away. He tossed a change of clothes into a backpack. 

Jamie was surprised to see the truck Chuck drove. On the outside, it looked like an ordinary olive green, extended-cab sport truck. He honestly hadn’t been paying that close attention when the Hansens had pulled up behind him; all he’d known was that they’d shown up in some non-sedan-type vehicle. In the months that had followed, he’d never put that much thought into how Chuck got anywhere without Herc’s assistance, though he’d assumed that Herc wouldn’t leave Chuck without a means of transportation. He’d gotten more used to seeing Herc’s PDDC-issue Jeep and figured Chuck would use the same.

Chuck put down half of the rear seat so that Rachel’s car carrier could be secured in place. Ian was strapped into a special doggy harness on the other side. Sliding into the passenger seat, Jamie saw the truck was very definitely that of someone with a disability. Noticing his attention on the steering controls, Chuck assured him, “I can drive, mate.”

“Just never seen a vehicle with an electronic pad mounted to the left of the steering wheel.”

Chuckling, Chuck turned on the vehicle and put it in gear. “I can’t drive a regular setup anymore; for one thing, my right foot’s fused at the ankle. This is the only way I can.” His left hand easily maneuvered the odd controller, and Jamie realized that the controller was essentially the gas and brake pedals.

Within a few minutes, Jamie was reassured that Chuck not only could drive, but was a competent, if slightly aggressive, driver. Chuck didn’t seem inclined for small talk, so Jamie didn’t say anything as they crossed the city to the Shatterdome.

Chuck stopped at the gate.

“Good evening, Mr. Hansen,” the guard greeted, stepping away from the guard shack. “You have a visitor with you?”

“Yes, two, one’s a sprog,” Chuck said. The guard stepped back into the shack and reemerged with a tablet, which he handed to Chuck. 

A stylus had been velcroed to the tablet. Chuck quickly scanned the form, filled out a few spaces, and then handed the tablet to Jamie. “Just need you to sign the bottom.”

“What’s this?” Jamie asked. “I’m okay with just meeting Herc in the lobby like I’ve always done. Herc told me I was safer if we went to my place.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Safer for him, maybe. Don’t make me kick your ass, Jamie. If you’re going to tell my father you love him, you’d better do it in his apartment, because he’s not going to let you up for air. If for some crazy reason, Dad won’t talk to you tonight, we can put you up in a spare room and take you back in the morning.”

Hastily, Jamie read the form, which was a visitor release, stating that while on PPDC property, Jamie would be responsible for following the orders of any PPDC personnel, staying with his escort, and would be solely responsible for the care of his minor child. It went on to say that no vehicular traffic was allowed through the gates after 1830 or before 0430 unless it was an emergency or had prior authorization. A further paragraph listed all the ways the PPDC was not liable for damages incurred to his person while on property should he not follow safety protocols, including any kaiju- or jaeger-related injuries. Not seeing anything untoward, though the injury disclaimer made him pause, Jamie signed it and passed the tablet back.

Taking the tablet, the guard then made a circuit of the truck, pausing to look in the rear of the cab to see Rachel and Ian. When the guard returned to the driver’s side, he smiled at Chuck.

“Have a good evening, sir,” the guard said, waving them on.

“What was that about?” Jamie wondered.

“He was verifying what I told him so he had an accurate headcount.” Though there was no other traffic on the access road, Chuck kept his speed down to the 10 kph posted. “We don’t allow many visitors after hours.”

Startled, Jamie looked at Chuck. “They know who you are and they’d still verify that you told them the truth?”

“Manila had a zealot jump into one of the motor pool jeeps on its way in,” Chuck told him. “He succeeded in burning himself and one of the occupants before he was subdued.”

“Wish I’d had your security when I was on stage that last time,” Jamie noted quietly. “Might’ve made a difference that night.”

“Probably not,” Chuck told him, surprising Jamie. “Saw the footage – that guy was determined to get to you, no matter what, and that fight the security guys were trying to handle was staged so he could get to you.”

Jamie sighed. “So I’ve been told.” Shaking his head, “Old news. So how much freedom do I have to wander around?” 

Chuck nodded. “Not very far, but Dad has the Marshal’s apartment, so it’s self-contained; you shouldn’t need anything. Place is pretty well locked down, but if you need something and Dad’s not around, just ask the computer to page me.”

Jamie quickly discovered that past the lobby, the Shatterdome was a maze of locked hallways and doors. The central facility was a rectangular box (“offices,” Chuck explained with a wave) with the dome emerging on the oceanside. It was past the administrative core that Jamie found himself following Chuck through pass-keyed doors marked “JAEGER PERSONNEL ONLY.” The last one even required Ian to press his paws against a black pad to activate an automatic door switch – the door looked like it belonged better on some massive military ship – before it opened to a brightly lit, but still very industrial, hallway. Some well-intentioned soul had hung an abstract painting in the middle, clearly trying to add some counterpoint to the militaristic, almost ship-like, décor.

Stepping in, Jamie saw that the hallway split at the wall, with the path continuing either forward at an offset, left, or right. Jamie followed Chuck down the left path. The new hallway held four doors on either side; all had the same heavy, blast-resistant doors Jamie had seen throughout the facility. At the last one on the left, Ian rose and pressed his paws to the pass-key panel.

Jamie saw why a few moments later. Herc stepped out, eyes on his son.

“Oi, what do you want?” Herc demanded, annoyed.

“Brought you a present.” Chuck gestured to Jamie and Rachel, and the irritation on Herc’s face faded as he realized who stood there. 

With a murmur of apologies, Raleigh and Mako slipped past Herc and out into the hallway. Herc acted as though he barely noticed them, too stunned at Jamie’s presence.

Unsure of the protocol, Jamie stood there; Herc, he’d learned, didn’t indulge in public displays of affection beyond a hug or a chaste kiss. 

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Just kiss and make up already,” he growled as Raleigh picked up Rachel’s carrier and Mako snagged the diaper bag. “Bang on my door when you’re done.” Rather grumpily, he headed off, Raleigh and Mako in tow.

Still, Herc waited until Chuck was out of sight. “Come on in,” he told Jamie, gesturing to his room.

Stepping inside, Jamie saw that it was simply furnished. Directly across from the door was a small seating area with a sofa and a coffee table. Turning, Jamie saw that a desk occupied the corner nearest the door; directly past the seating area was a kitchen with a table that seated four. A poker game had been abandoned on the table.

A doorway, offset from the main entrance, led into the bedroom area. From where Jamie stood, he could see that the bed had been neatly made, and he guessed that the bathroom was that way as well. A few scattered photographs in frames added a touch of personality. The whole area looked to be about 600 square feet at best, smaller than Jamie’s apartment.

“It’s not much,” Herc apologized, “but I’ve been living in barracks smaller than this for years. Bed’s a queen size, which is a nice upgrade from the singles I’ve gotten used to sleeping in.”

“Nice,” Jamie said, setting his bag down. Jamie then turned to face Herc. “In case it wasn’t clear, that was your son, kicking my ass for not telling you I love you.”

Herc raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look like you have any bruises.”

“He didn’t want you retaliating for hurting me,” Jamie jokingly guessed, though he had no idea whether that was true or not. “Herc, I do love you. I’m just – the words get stuck in my head and they come out in songs and I forget that I need to actually talk, sometimes.”

Herc stared at him, mistrustful. “You never said anything. You’d kiss me and we’d wind up having sex again.” He shrugged. “Figured after six months, I’d cut my losses.”

Jamie glared at him. “I. Love. You, Hercules Hansen. You make me want to get on stage again and sing, and I haven’t wanted to do that for anyone in over a decade.”

For a moment, Herc stared at him. Then, ever a man of action, he closed the distance between them and grasped Jamie’s upper arms. “Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I love you,” Jamie said, and kissed him. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if you want.”

Herc smiled. “I can live with that,” he said, and kissed him back.


	16. Chapter 16

_Epilogue – Two months later_

“Stop fussing,” Herc growled at his son as Chuck brushed a speck of imaginary lint off his father’s dress uniform as they stood in the room that had been designated as Herc’s dressing room. The ceremony was being held in a small, nondenominational church. Herc felt a surge of nerves as he thought of Jamie’s insistence that if he was going to be married, he wanted to do it the way he’d always dreamed, in a church, with vows that sprung from the Christian-based faith he’d been raised to believe in, just because he didn’t plan on doing it again. Herc had rarely been a praying man, but he knew the importance of faith. “You’re worse than a mother hen. You gonna let me live down the fact that I almost fucked this up?”

“Nope,” Chuck replied, grinning as he stepped back and took possession of Ian’s handle again. “Rachel’s gonna grow up hearing how I saved you from making the grave mistake of assuming her dad didn’t love you.”

Herc glared at his son, resplendent in his own dress uniform, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel too much anger. It was his wedding day, and he was marrying Jamie. Adoption papers for Rachel were in the works, and he’d be a father again by the end of the month. “We’ll see who’s smug when you fall in love and fuck it up,” Herc warned.

“Sorry, old man, not happening.”

Herc laughed. “So that wasn’t you kissing Raleigh this morning in the hallway, hmm?”

Chuck arched an eyebrow, trying for an innocence he’d never had. “Nope,” and the two men shared a look that said neither was fooling the other. 

“He’d better treat you right.”

Chuck favored his father with a look. “Quit worrying about me. Today’s your day. Think you can get married without my help, Dad?”

“Oi, and who insisted he’d better be the best man?” Herc teased, but he took a deep breath, feeling the steady presence of his son and former copilot as he moved to marry the man he loved. 

_The End_


End file.
